


XXX

by torres



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 84,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torres/pseuds/torres
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xabi Alonso runs a porn studio where most of the action happens off-camera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The job interview

Thirty minutes to five. Half an hour to go and Xabi Alonso’s work was done for today. Now, he only had to deal with one more call from Iker Casillas, the head of the Madrid branch of Blacklisted Studios, and he could call it a day.

Taking advantage of the rare moment of silence, Xabi stretched out luxuriously on his desk chair, moaning gratefully as his sides flexed and his aching muscles relaxed.

Not soon after, all three lines of his office phone rang simultaneously.

Xabi didn’t even have time to curse as he dove for the nearest handset.

“Iker?” He asked hopefully, but the voice at the other end of the line answered gruffly instead, “No, it’s Sami.”

Sami, Sami from Distribution. Shit.

“What is it?” Xabi asked, although he didn’t want to know.

“Some users are still getting around our encryption. A lot of our videos are getting ripped from the website without payment,” Sami briefed their CEO, his voice strained and annoyed. He’d been dealing with these hackers for a week now.

“How many videos?”

“The whole bucketload. Worse, a lot of them pop up over in Torrent sites and more people get them for free.”

“Shit.”

“Last time I checked, there were more than 300 leechers in one go.”

“Fucking shit, Sami.”

“Yes. So you had better get me new technical support, Alonso, or your sales are plunging this month,” Sami warned. His voice was calm but edged with exasperation.

“Fine, fine. I’ll call Finance and I’ll see what we can do,” Xabi said, already punching in the numbers for the Finance department when the other phones continued to ring off the hook.

“Yes?” Xabi demanded, as he answered another call.

“Fabio that fucking Brazilian cunt is calling in sick again!” A mighty voice roared down the line.

Xabi winced as he held the handset away from his ear, “Hello, Carra.”

“What am I supposed to fucking do? Shooting starts tomorrow, all the equipment is ready, all the cast is scheduled in, and we already paid our reservations for the locations!”

“Well, you’re the fucking talent manager so why don’t you fucking manage the fucking talent?!” Xabi exploded right back. Carra always got him riled up, and his expletives were infectious.

“Manage what? Where the hell am I going to find a new Brazilian bottom a day before the shoot? And don’t you dare say Lucas because I hate giving him a starring role, unless I absolutely have to.”

Xabi gripped the phone hander in his hand as he struggled to sound diplomatic “Guess what, Carra? You absolutely have to. Unless you can rip Fabio off of his death bed, then Lucas is your lead for tomorrow.”

“You’re a soddy wanker, Alonso” – then Xabi hung up on him.

 _Riiiinggg._ The sound of the phone pierced shrilly at the Spaniard’s ear.

“WHAT??” Xabi couldn’t help but yell at the mouthpiece.

“Holla.” The unmistakably laid-back and undoubtedly high voice at the other end of the line was sure to be Ryan.

“Keep off the reefers until closing time, Babel.” Xabi gritted his teeth.

“Our bulk order for condoms hasn’t arrived. It’s a day late already,” Ryan continued, as if Xabi never spoke up.

Xabi let his head drop on the surface of his desk, and he didn’t even flinch when it hit the wood loudly.

“Ryan, wait for yourself to sober up, and I’m sure you’ll find it. It’s a box full of banana-flavored rubbers. You won’t miss it.”

Then, with an air of finality, he let the phone clatter noisily back on its cradle. 4:45. Fifteen minutes to sanity.

But, of course, it wasn’t over.

“Xabi?” Mikel Arteta’s voice was robotic over the intercom. “Somebody’s here to see you. Do I send him in?”

Xabi sighed tiredly, before pressing the phone button and snapping testily in response. “Is it important?”

There was a rustle in the background and a few exchanged murmurs. Xabi rubbed his temples impatiently.

“He says he’s applying for a job.”

Frowning, Xabi grunted out, “Can you tell him to come back anytime this week? I’ve had a long day.”

There was another pause, and Xabi could almost imagine Mikel, in his perch right outside this office, phone faithfully pressed to his ear with one hand, and with another, flipping meticulously through the company planner, ready to pencil in the next appointment.

“The boy says he’s only free today because he’s still going to college, and he has class the rest of the week.”

Xabi groaned loudly at the speakerphone.

“And you did send out a memo to everyone that you were looking for a bottom,” Mikel continued. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “And this boy is like the mother of all twinks.”

That made Xabi feel just a tiny bit better and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So, do you want me to send him in or what?”

Xabi nibbled at his bottom lip. “What do you think?”

There was another long silence. And with the dozens of gay (and occasional straight) males that trooped down to Blacklisted Studios looking for their big break, day in and day out, it was an asset to have Miki in the front desk. He was as picky as they could be. Xabi fondly called him their first line of defence.

“This looks good to go.” Mikel finally decided.

Xabi checked his watch. Iker was going to call in a while, but maybe he could spare a few minutes.

“Alright, send him in.”

*

The boy entered Xabi’s office quiet as a mouse, head down and with the slightest scuffle of sneakers against the industrial carpeting. The Basque peered at him over the magazine he was reading and spoke nonchalantly, “Well, go on then. Strip.”

Xabi didn’t miss the comedic way the visitor froze and his eyes bulged out. “E-excuse me?”

Xabi huffed a sigh then noisily flipped the magazine to the next page. “I said, strip.”

The visitor stood still, hands clutching his backpack to his body, as if to create a barrier between himself and Xabi.

“Babe, I don’t have all day.”

“I-I’m sorry, but I thought...” the boy trailed off as he blushed, unable to continue.

“What did you think?” Xabi taunted wrly, lazily throwing the magazine on his desk. “That I would ask for your résumé?”

The stranger blushed even more and Xabi thought he saw an inmaculately printed piece of paper being stuffed down a back pocket. “Uh, of course not.”

The corner of Xabi’s mouth twitched.

“You’re cute.”

“Thanks. I think.” The guy said, ducking his head in embarrassment.

“What’s your name?” Xabi asked, sitting up straight on his chair, getting into business-mode.

“Fernando.” The stranger introduced himself. “Fernando Torres.”

Xabi supported his chin with clasped hands, “And why do you want to become a porn star, Fernando?” Oh, he loved asking that question. The answers were always interesting.

Fernando fidgeted. He glanced at the nameplate on the desk, instead of the Basque’s unreadable face. “I... need money.”

“So get a part-time job,” Xabi rebutted, disinterested.

“No, I need a lot of money.”

“Sell a kidney.”

Fernando’s jaw dropped. Xabi raised an eyebrow, “You and I both know the real answer. I just want you to say it.”

The younger boy bit his lip as he looked away. He spoke quickly, words tumbling into each other in one whoosh. “I figured I would just make money off of something that I’ll end up doing anyway.”

A smile cracked upon Xabi’s face, and Fernando felt a tad bit more relaxed. He shrugged, “Besides, it looks like fun.”

“Good answer. No more shit excuses next time, kid.” Xabi said, nodding once in approval, and Fernando felt a surge of pride.

“Now, strip.”

This time, Fernando took a deep, steadying breath, and he put down his backpack on the floor. “Okay,” he replied meekly, more of a reassurance to himself than in agreement to Xabi.

When Fernando shrugged off his jacket, the Basque leaned back in his chair, contented. He folded his arms behind the back of his head, then put up his feet on his desk. “Perfect,” he murmured.

He watched as Fernando took off his shirt, taking all the time in the world in folding it by the couch to stall. It wasn’t long enough, though, until he had to work on his belt, then his shoes and socks. Finally, there were only two items of clothing left – faded denim jeans and (assuming he was wearing underwear) whatever was beneath them.

“I don’t think you noticed, but we don’t really do much business in here with clothing on,” Xabi prodded sarcastically.

“I’m stripping, I’m stripping,” Fernando answered hurriedly, fumbling with the button and zipper of his trousers.

“Don’t delay the inevitable. Just yank your jeans down,” Xabi coached, completely no-nonsense.

Shutting his eyes, Fernando did as he was told. He stepped out of his jeans and as with previous items of clothing, folded them obsessively before hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his briefs.

“Go on,” Xabi encouraged, his eyes taking on a more leering quality.

“Do I really have to?”

“I’ve seen too many stuffed packages, so yes, I’d like to see the real thing, please.”

“But...”

“Do you intend to film a porn clip in your underwear?” Xabi challenged.

Fernando pursed his lips. Then with one swift move, the thin garment fell to the ground.

Xabi grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Fernando didn’t respond, only kept gazing forward at the mint blue paint of the wall so he didn’t lose his nerve.

Xabi got up to his feet and approached the younger Spaniard.

“Well, we’ll obviously have to do something with this hair,” he murmured to himself, running fingers through Fernando’s long blonde mop. “You’ll have to drop by our stylist’s office to get yourself a decent haircut. Some nice layers around the face would be nice – and a better dye job, definitely.”

Fernando winced and his shell of confidence started to crack a little.

Xabi started circling him, “Now, are you really this pale?”

The boy nodded, “Yeah, I” – he choked on the words as he felt Xabi run his fingers over his spine experimentally – “I burn easily.”

“Self-tanning, babe.”

“Oh. O-okay.”

“Height?”

“About 1.85 metres.”

“Weight?”

“Uh, 12 stone 4.”

“This is so strange,” Xabi observed, circling Fernando again before coming to a stop in front of him.

“What’s strange?” Fernando dared himself to ask.

“Your body’s massive, which is a problem. You’re easily taller and bigger than half of our tops here at Blacklisted.” Xabi frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But your face...”

He reached out and let his fingers brush Fernando’s cheek. He let it run over the ridges of his eyebrows, then his nose, then his cheekbones and jaw. Fernando held his breath as the soft pads of Xabi’s fingertips caressed his skin.

“You have the face of a bottom.”

Fernando blinked, unsure of how to react. “...Oh.”

Xabi’s eyes glistened excitedly as he turned around to reach for a notepad on his desk. He scribbled busily, “Kid, with a face like that, you could pull off a simulated rape scene in a heartbeat.”

“A... a what?” Fernando paled.

Xabi uncharacteristically beamed at the newcomer, foul mood now slightly forgotten. “Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we can talk about your future projects next time.”

Fernando literally looked like he was shrinking back, his hands fixed at covering his crotch and his feet stumbling back just a few steps. If there ever was a look of regret, there it was on that boy’s face.

Xabi hopped up to sit on his desk. He made a vague gesture at Fernando to carry on. Naturally, the Spaniard glanced back at him blankly.

The Basque rolled his eyes, “Let me see you hard.” And he said it like it was the most expected thing in the world.

Fernando gulped – “You mean” – he looked down at his dick apprehensively.

Xabi kicked his heels against the front of the desk. _“Yes.”_

“Is this really necessary?”

The red on Xabi’s face was positively glowing and he spat out exaggeratedly, “Why, no, Fernando. I’m just picking on you because you’re the first and only ever job applicant here at Blacklisted. That’s why I’m throwing everything but the kitchen sink at you.”

Before the boy could even wince, Xabi added with a raised tone and a finger to the door, “For crying out loud, just fucking do it or get out of my office!”

Needless to say, temperance wasn’t one of Xabi’s strong points.

Fernando’s head immediately snapped up in attention, and Xabi knew he had him now. “No, I-I’ll do it, just don’t... I _really_ need this job.”

He wiped his palms nervously against the sides of his pale thighs, and Xabi could see the way his fingers mildly shook. Then, with such an audible gasp for air, Fernando finally wrapped his wrist around his soft cock and started stroking it lightly. Xabi felt such a disturbing rush of authority, he remembered why boys like Fernando had to be snapped up and put in front of a camera.

But Fernando looked so determined, so absorbed – he was absolutely fucking it up. Xabi sighed softly, watching the boy trying to get himself up but failing horribly. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned back on the mahogany surface of his desk and started rooting around in one of the drawers.

Last month, their sponsor, KY Jelly, sent them packets of their new products. He was sure he stashed some of that lube in here somewhere. After filing through his junk for a few more seconds – file photos of his porn stars, financial reports from three years past and, hey, that kinky note Mikel sent him underneath the stash of billing letters he got a few days ago – he finally found a dusty packet.

Blowing the dirt off, Xabi tore it open and then poured the cold lube in his hands. He rubbed his palms together to heat it up, and Fernando looked up – a mixture of worry and curiosity.

“Let me do it,” Xabi said softly, trying not to sound like he was admonishing the boy again. He beckoned him over with one finger, and Fernando immediately stepped forward until he was in front of Xabi on the desk, their kneecaps bumping at each other with the slightest movement.

“Sorry, I...” Fernando trailed off into a soft moan as Xabi experimentally ran his thumb over the head of Fernando’s cock. He bit his lip in embarrassment at being so obvious.

“No, go on,” Xabi chuckled low in his throat, “I know I give a good handjob.”

Fernando struggled to remain calm, so just to test his limits, Xabi he tightened his fist and twisted it hard down the shaft of Fernando’s cock.

Fernando’s eyes fluttered close and his eyebrows knitted together. God, he _was_ good.

The sound of a ringing phone jolted him out of his preoccupation. With his free hand, Xabi dug into his pocket to find his mobile. Checking the screen briefly, he flipped it open and pressed it against his ear –

“Iker.”

“Xabi, hola.”

“I’m kind of busy right now.”

“You won’t believe this, Cesc is asking for a bigger dressing room and a greater cut in profits,” Iker continued, as if Xabi didn’t even speak.

Xabi sighed as he listened to Iker ranting about his top dog. He pursed his lips to refrain from making snarky comments and instead concentrated back on running his fingers teasingly over the underside of Fernando’s hardening cock. The boy mewled instantly.

“Seriously, who does he think he is? What makes him think he can get away with all these crazy demands?”

“Because you indulge him, Iker,” Xabi rolled his eyes. He kept the phone in place between his shoulder and ear, and with his freed-up hand, he cradled Fernando’s balls. The newcomer almost cried out in surprise and shuddering pleasure.

“For fuck’s sake, I only gave him his own dressing room before and a lot more projects than the others because he was good. Jesus, when we released a new clip of his, the euros came pouring in, it was crazy. Especially when we released that bondage flick? That was a good year.”

Xabi scoffed so violently, he accidentally squeezed Fernando’s cock with a little too much force. The blonde yelped in pain, knees buckling beneath him. Fernando was panting heavily now, he leaned forward to support himself on the desk. He bent forward, almost curved on top of Xabi on the table.

“Yeah, you give benefits to your star. But giving him a share of the profits? That’s kind of stupid, Iker. I’m surprised all your other talents didn’t hold some sort of sex strike.”

Iker sighed heavily, and Xabi could imagine him running his hand exasperatedly over that gorgeous jaw of his.

“Remind me again why I did that?”

“Because you like fucking his boy pussy,” Xabi replied blankly.

“Oh. Oh, right.”

Xabi tugged at Fernando’s cock with rapid efficiency now, and he could feel Fernando shivering above him, his chest heaving and his breath coming out in short bursts, hot as it blew against the side of his face. Fernando licked his parched lips as he watched Xabi, with this sexy look of absolute determination set on his classic good looks. His eyes were intense as he focused both on jacking off Fernando’s cock and arguing with Iker on the phone.

Then, not being able to stop himself, Fernando leaned forward and licked at the soft flesh behind Xabi’s ear. The way Xabi let out a surprised groan made Fernando even harder.

“Fuck it, Xabi, what the hell are you up to over there?” Iker demanded. “I’ve been hearing funny sounds all throughout this call.”

Xabi gritted his teeth and pushed himself upwards, letting Fernando suckle at his neck hungrily. “Good boy,” he commended breathlessly into Fernando’s hair.

“Xabier!” Iker scolded.

“I told you – I’m busy.”

“Right, Alonso.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“No, tell me what’s happening!” Iker nagged.

“New boy. Hot mouth.”

There was a pause, and Xabi could just see the wicked grin spread along Iker’s face. “Hmm.”

“Call you later, Iker.”

“Send me pictures, Xabi.”

“Good bye.”

Xabi let his phone clatter to the desk noisily. Fernando pulled away unsurely.

“I guess you’re not really as shy as you let on,” Xabi threw him a crooked grin, and Fernando returned it.

The Basque removed his hand from Fernando’s now throbbing hard-on, and Fernando protested at the back of his throat.

“You’re perfectly hard now,” Xabi said, slipping away from underneath the other Spaniard. “Now, keep it that way.”

He went around his desk and retrieved his camera from his messenger bag. As he waited for it to switch on, he looked up at Fernando and grinned at him sneakily, “For documentation purposes only.”

Fernando let out a nervous laugh. Xabi instructed him to move back so he could shoot him full-body. Looking into the viewfinder, Xabi adjusted the lens until Fernando’s lithe body came into focus. However, the boy automatically tensed again and covered his erection with his hands.

Xabi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. You’d think this brat would know the drill by now.

“Fernando, this is a porn company. I’m sure I have handcuffs somewhere in this room. If you don’t put your hands behind your back right now, I’m going to cuff you to a chair and god forbid I don’t do anything to you other than take your pictures.”

In a flash, Fernando immediately clasped his hands behind his back.

“There, grab your cock again for me, babe.”

Fernando reluctantly took hold of his dick and looked at the camera. Xabi nodded tersely and clicked away.

“Okay, now sit down on the couch. Yeah, that’s it. Open your legs – yeah, just like that. Now, tilt your head back,” Xabi gave an endless flow of instructions as he moved around Fernando, taking shots at different distances and angles. After a couple more shots, he put down his camera.

“Now, turn around, kid.”

Fernando opened his mouth to protest, but he immediately held himself back and just did as he was told.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Xabi asked, pulling the boy back by the waist. He poured more lube into his hands and started massaging Fernando’s ass. Fernando immediately tensed, shoulders rising to his ears, muscles coiling tightly.

“Oh, god, please don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“I’ve had sex with guys before,” Fernando choked out nervously, head turned around, helplessly trying to see what Xabi was going to do next.

“Anal sex?” Xabi demanded, running his fingers down the crack of Fernando’s ass. The younger Spaniard started shaking again.

“Uh, maybe a handjob and a couple of blowjobs,” Fernando answered quietly, already wincing in anticipation of the tongue-lashing Xabi was going to give him.

But Xabi was unexpectedly quiet. He just made good work of lining Fernando’s pucker with dollops of lube.

“Relax,” Xabi instructed coldly as he pushed the tip of his index finger in. Fernando whimpered and clenched even tighter. Xabi gritted his teeth and lost his patience. In a flash, he sent his palm smacking loudly against the flesh of Fernando’s ass.

“I said, relax!” Xabi half-shouted.

Fernando whimpered louder, his skin stung and his heart was crashing loudly against his rib cage in unparalleled anxiety. Sighing loudly, Xabi reached under Fernando and started stroking his cock again with one hand, in a bid to calm him down. Then, with the other, he tried pushing his index finger in again. It slid in this time – not easily, but the ring of muscle gave in just enough.

“It’s not so bad, it’s just one finger,” Xabi said, moving his finger around gingerly inside Fernando. He could see the Spaniard gripping the edges of the seat in front of him so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. Xabi continued playing with Fernando’s hard-on, until his breathing slowed down just a little.

“You sure you’ve never had anything up here yet?” Xabi asked and his tone was almost conversational or bored. Fernando shook his head wordlessly, eyes still screwed shut.

“Not even a finger?” Xabi asked again, as he moved the digit around to feel at the soft, unadulterated walls of flesh inside Fernando. “...Or a cock? Not even a toy?”

Fernando groaned, “No, I swear, this is the first.”

Xabi grinned to himself. “Do you like it?” He pushed his finger deeper, and it barely brushed against the node of Fernando’s prostate. Fernando let out a strangled scream, _“Yes!”_

“You want a cock up your ass when we shoot your first film?”

Fernando didn’t answer but he pushed persistently against Xabi’s finger, trying to find that sensation again. “A-anything, whatever you say.”

“Right, now come for me,” Xabi coaxed against the shell of Fernando’s ear, hands working at both his ass and cock. “Come the way you’ll come for my cameras.”

Fernando thrust forward and back more desperately now. He hadn’t felt anything like this before, it didn’t take him long until he was pouring his seed all over Xabi’s palm, a cry of relief spilling from his lips.

Xabi spun him around bonelessly and brought his hand up to Fernando’s lips. Fernando’s never tasted come before, but in his half-daze, he didn’t even think twice as he slipped Xabi’s stained fingers into his lips and sucked on it obediently, making sure he cleaned every digit of the bitter fluid.

“That’s it, kid,” Xabi murmured, eyes dark and breathing just a little bit heavier.

When they were both sated, Xabi instructed Fernando to dress up. He pressed the button on his intercom and paged for his secretary to come in. In a few seconds, Mikel knocked on the door and peered inside.

“Come in, Mikel,” Xabi instructed.

The other Basque cautiously entered, and Xabi saw him take a fleeting gaze at Fernando tiredly pulling his shirt over his head.

Mikel gave a low whistle as he approached Xabi, “How was it?”

But Xabi didn’t dignify these kinds of questions – they were beneath him. Instead, he took his camera and shoved it into Mikel’s arms, “Take this to Carra. I’ve got a dozen or so shots of the new boy, tell him to find him a partner.”

Then, Xabi looked at Fernando who was now putting on his jacket. “We shoot next week. Leave your contact details outside by the logbook and we’ll get in touch with you.”

Fernando nodded once and made his way to the door, mumbling a quick and shy thank you.

“Oh, and Fernando?” Xabi called out.

Fernando paused, halfway between scared and intrigued. “Yes?” He managed to cough out.

Xabi winked, “Break in that ass already.”

The rate at which Fernando’s face burned up was remarkable. He ducked his head and practically ran out the door.

“You didn’t have to terrorise him, Xabier,” Mikel tutted.

“It’s best to give him a reality check now,” Xabi answered back.

“Anyway, I should go if I want to catch Carra,” Mikel said, waving the camera in reminder, but Xabi’s grip on his arm was tight.

“Before that,” Xabi said, his lips forming a steely smile that didn’t quite reach his lust-filled eyes. Mikel’s gaze immediately dropped to the straining bulge in Xabi’s jeans.

“You mind taking care of that for me, Mikel?” Xabi asked sweetly.

Mikel grinned, placing the camera on the desk carefully. “Whatever you say, _boss_.”


	2. Apartment story

When Fernando reached his apartment, he was exhausted and slightly traumatized. His hands were shaking and his legs were shaking even more, and he swore he could still feel Xabi Alonso’s finger prodding inside him. His Blacklisted Studios application form was stuffed inside his backpack, in case he met anyone he knew on the way home. After all, he told his friends he was getting a part-time job at the Burger King on the other side of town. Sucking dick and flipping burgers kind of didn’t have anything in common.

Sliding in the key inside the rattly old doorknob that had been threatening to fall off since they moved in, he pushed open the door and it immediately hit the coat closet in the hallway. So, they lived in a craphole.

“I’m home!” Fernando called out as he padded down the short (very, very short) corridor. He heard a slight grunt of acknowledgment followed by a series of giggles in the living room.

“Sergio?” He asked, peeking in.

He saw the Sevillan spread out on the couch, lazily nodding at him in greeting. Fernando suppressed the queasy fluttering sensation in his stomach because it was crazy that he still got shivers seeing Sergio when they saw each other every day at home.

“What are you doing?” Fernando asked, slightly breathless and he was sure there was a foolish grin on his face. He entered the living room to maybe join the Sevillan, but what he saw made him stop on his tracks.

“O-oh.” Fernando stuttered, freezing. “You’re not alone.”

They were almost identical on the couch – with their long flowing brown hair and their arms intertwined around another. The only difference was that the visitor had pale, almost ghostly translucent skin versus Sergio’s meticulously bronzed one.

Fernando shook some sense into himself, “I mean, I didn’t know you had company. Hi, Gago.”

The Argentinean did that same lazy nod Sergio uses to refer to Fernando. Like he couldn’t be bothered to put in the slightest bit of effort to recognize Sergio’s roommate.

“So, how are you guys?” Fernando asked, forcing himself to sound as perky as possible. He tried not to falter when Gago reached up and made Sergio face him, kissing him like they were the only ones in the room. Fernando’s heart felt like it was being wrenched every time he heard the two nuzzling sickly sweet terms of endearment to each other in between kisses.

When Sergio first introduced Fernando Gago to him months ago, Fernando thought there was something sweet (and kinky) in the way Sergio chose to date someone with the same name as him. Maybe it was a sign that Sergio was pining for him and maybe he wanted to be reminded of Fernando every time he kissed or made love to the Argentinean. 

Until Sergio started spending all his time with Gago and ended up having less and less time for his roommate, then Fernando realised that maybe their names were only just a negligible coincidence for Sergio.

Sergio sighed when he noticed that Fernando was still standing there. He extricated himself from Gago, asking dully. “How was the job at McDonald’s?”

The result was instantaneous. Fernando’s eyes brightened up as he answered Sergio eagerly, “Burger King, actually” – Sergio rolled his eyes – “It was great. I got the job. I’m starting next week and the manager said...”

Fernando trailed off as he saw Sergio waving his hand in dismissal.

“That’s great, Nando. Congratulations.” Sergio said with finality, before pouncing against Gago and going back to making out in the blink of an eye.

“Oh. Okay,” Fernando answered hollowly, watching them with unease and intrigue. “Thank you.”

When they still didn’t stop kissing and groping, Fernando finally took a step back, hesitantly making his way to his own room.

“I-I’ll just be in my room in case you guys need me, okay?”

It was only when the door to Fernando’s room swung close that Gago finally broke away from Sergio, both to catch his breath and to retort, “God, Sergio, why are you still living with that social reject?”

“Well, I don’t think he has anywhere to go,” Sergio said, fixing the tendrils of Gago’s hair fixatedly.

“Didn’t you two used to go out?” Gago demanded.

Sergio’s jaw dropped and he was immediately on the defensive. “We had a _thing_. And that was in _high school_. I was young. I didn’t know any better.”

Gago snorted, “I don’t think he got the memo that your _thing_ is over. I could see him salivating from here.” He hit Sergio’s shoulder, “And you’re encouraging him by treating him like some poor, homeless puppy you took pity on and adopted!”

Sergio sat up, shrugging. “I like keeping him.” He explained nonchalantly, “He can be pretty to look at.”

“Even when you have to endure all that endless whining and pouting?”

Sergio groaned. “When you live with him every day, you learn to filter it out and only pay attention when he’s walking around naked to take a shower.”

Gago wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Have you guys ever...?”

Sergio cringed. “Oh, god, no. I tried to give him a blowjob once and he almost fainted. I don’t think he can handle anything farther than heavy petting.”

Gago looked horrified. “If I ever get that sexually-stunted, can you just rape me instead so I can see the light?”

A broad, feral grin spread over the Sevillan’s strong features. “Now, Gago, is that a new kink you want to explore?”

Gago smiled back, the lust heavy in his tone even has he answered helplessly, “No, please don’t, Sergio.”

*

Fernando settled into his desk chair and opened his planner on his desk. Murmuring the instructions Xabi gave him, he started pencilling down appointments.

“Haircut,” he said to himself, noting down the number of the studio’s stylist and the address of his place. “Dirk Kuyt,” he read to himself as he wrote down the name of the contact person. He vaguely remembered Xabi explaining, “I know he doesn’t look like the type of person who can give a good haircut because, well, you’ll see for yourself. It’s this yellow hair gel thing he refuses to throw out. But believe me, he can work wonders with that” – the Basque cringed – “ _thing_ on your head.”

Then he flipped to the next page on his planner. Xabi did mention something about self-tanning. He didn’t know the first thing about self-tanning, so he wrote down instead: “Ask Sergio about self-tanning.”

He stopped. Maybe that would raise many unsolicited questions.

He struck it out and scribbled over it, “Steal Sergio’s self-tanner (?).”

Okay. Hair, check. Skin, check. What was Xabi’s last instruction?

Oh. Right.

“Break in that ass.”

Fernando leaned back against his chair and shuddered just thinking about it. And not entirely in a bad way. Maybe he could get Sergio to do it.

He leapt to his feet, praying that Gago had already left and wondering how he was going to raise the question to his roommate. “Hey, Sergio. Wanna pop my cherry?” sounded just about right. After all, he did owe Sergio a couple of favours after the Sevillan paid for last month’s rent.

Fernando stepped outside with newfound bravery. And just on cue, Sergio and Gago were approaching his room – 

“Hey, Sergio, wanna – ”

“Hey, Nando, we’re heading out.”

 _‘...pop my cherry?’_ Fernando finished hopelessly in his head.

“We’ll be out late,” Sergio continued busily, putting on his jacket. “Don’t wait up for me.”

Fernando felt himself crumple against his door as he nodded wordlessly. As the two boys walked out of the apartment, he could hear them sniggering.

“Did you really have to say that?”

“Yes! Because you know, he really will wait up for me.”

“No fucking way.”

“Way.”

Fernando sighed and trudged back to his room, closing the door weakly behind him.

Guess he’ll have to do it himself then.

*

“I hear you have a new boy,” Daniel burst into Xabi’s office unannounced. Mikel arrived a split-second later, running after the towering Dane, unsuccessfully trying to stop him from barging in the room. Xabi gave clear orders that no one was to disturb him today – and since Xabi signed their pay checks, he was almost kind of the law.

“Where did you hear this?” Xabi distractedly asked, still not taking his eyes off the latest financial statements Iker emailed him.

Daniel plopped into the seat right in front of Xabi’s desk then brashly lifted his feet to rest it on the table top. “I peeked at Carra’s file while he was in the loo.”

Xabi glanced at Dan’s muddy boots, tracking soil all over his immaculate file folders. “I’m sorry, do you have any other purpose here than to ruin my day?”

Dan grinned widely. Now Xabi was listening. He put down his feet and leaned on the desk on his elbows. “I want the new boy as my partner.”

Xabi snorted. “Okay, why don’t you try ordering me around again? Let’s see if something happens this time.” He rolled his eyes – the Basque was an obsessive eye-roller – and went back to his computer.

Mikel coughed politely, as he tentatively put his hand on Dan’s shoulder, “Maybe we should leave now..?” But Dan shrugged him off and stood up impatiently.

“Xabi, I want the new boy!”

Xabi looked up, eyebrows knitting together now. Mikel cringed – that wasn’t a good sign.

“Repeating the same thing, only louder, isn’t going to change anything.” Xabi said slowly, jaw clenched.

Dan stomped angrily. “Why not?”

“Because!” Xabi exploded too, slamming his fists on the desk.

Mikel slapped his forehead. Obviously, the two boys didn’t get the memo that fighting fire with fire was only a good idea in BDSM dungeon porn. And even then, it wasn’t entirely fun because he remembered having to bring Steve Finnan to the hospital and trying to explain to the doctor how it was possible to have that kind first-degree burn on your ass.

“Let me break him in!”

“Like I could trust you with him!”

“I am a veteran.”

“You are barely out of your terrible twenties, and Fernando is even older than you!”

“Oh, big fucking deal. I can train him nicely, you’ll see.”

Mikel was jolted out of his thoughts as he heard the desk drawer slam close. Xabi was waving around a photograph wildly in the air now. “Do you see this? Huh? Huh? Do you see that face? I couldn’t even get him to take off his underwear! And even when he did, he made this pouty stompy face that made it seem like I was asking him to slaughter puppies!”

Dan did not budge. He snatched the photo from Xabi and gave it a once-over. “You let me train Martin Skrtel.”

“Because there was no possible way you could break Martin Skrtel!” Mikel had never heard anything that truly resembled a screech until now.

Dan crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. “Well, I refuse to work with Martin Skrtel for one more flick. I am tired of being his partner!”

Xabi groaned loudly, “Dammit, Daniel, your clips with Martin are practically a cult favourite!”

Dan grabbed his hair in frustration. “Yeah, in niche market segments! Like, the same market segments that made butt plugs and paddles and leather collars the fucking latest craze. Am I not allowed to shoot a movie for once that doesn’t involve a safety word?!”

Xabi sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Well, what do you want?”

Dan frowned. “I want to be a top again, for one.”

Xabi laughed sardonically. “That’s impossible.”

“Excuse me, I used to be an exclusive top until you and Carra decided I was the only one who could be Martin Skrtel’s bitch.”

“Yeah, in normal circumstances, you would be a top. But I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re quickly running out of bottoms,” Xabi pointed out, pushing out of his chair and pacing the room in a befuddled rant. “We have Fabio. And Lucas. But Lucas doesn’t count because Carra never wants to use him. And maybe that boy Emiliano, but he’s too young and I really don’t want to go against child abuse laws. Iker said he had this juicy 17-year-old named Bojan, but he said the boy didn’t wanna leave Spain. As if they needed any more fucking twinks in Madrid.”

“Uh-huh,” Dan stared at him blankly, obviously not caring about the words coming out of Xabi’s mouth. So he just plainly repeated, “I want the new boy.”

Xabi grabbed Dan’s shoulders and shook him violently, “Are you a fucking dildo? Didn’t you hear what I said? Bottoms are motherfucking endangered, Daniel! They’re like fucking pandas! Even China can’t mass produce them!”

“Oh, that’s good.” Mikel murmured in the side, nodding, “That’s a good one, Xabs. I like the China twist.”

Xabi barely smiled as he preened, “Thank you.”

A knock on the door interrupted them, and a head popped into the office. “Xabi, you called for me? I waited in reception but Mikel wasn’t at his desk.”

Daniel’s head swivelled around slowly. And when he saw who the newcomer was, his jaw dropped to the floor.  
“Oh. No. You fucking didn’t.” he enunciated clearly, disgustedly.

Stevie strutted into the room with all the air of a man who knew everyone was looking at him and basked in it. “Good morning, everyone.”

“Good morning, Stevie.” Xabi greeted flatly, seemingly pleased to find one civil employee in this place (other than Mikel) but too uptight to really say anything more.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving the new boy to Captain Fantastic,” Dan’s tone had dropped but it was more menacing now as it was gravelly, as if preparing to pounce.

“He’s one of the seniors in our business.” 

“Oh, doesn’t he just have the whole jolly world in his hands!” Dan raved sarcastically.

“Well, I trust him more than I trust you,” Xabi snapped sharply.

Daniel threw his hands in the air dramatically and let out a strangled half-scream. Then he spun on his heel and stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

“Soddy melodramatic bitch. I wish he’d just take that rod out of his tight ass and be agreeable for once,” Xabi groaned, shaking his head in disapproval.

Mikel emerged from where he was cowering at the edge of the room – he hated conflict and if there was anything that was always sure to happen in Xabi’s office, it was conflict. He advised, “You wouldn’t like Daniel if he started becoming agreeable. Do you think people watch his porn because he’s _nice_?”

Meanwhile, Stevie wandered over to where Dan carelessly threw Fernando’s file photo on the carpet. 

“This is him?” He asked, picking up the picture and smoothing it of its creases. He scrutinised the new boy – he’s seen a lot of them come and go, so he wasn’t really that excitable.

“Yep. Blonde hair and freckles.”

“Well, isn’t he just a glorious ray of sunshine,” Stevie said dryly, his lips curving into a lopsided smirk.

Xabi grinned for the first time too. Lewdly, if I might add. “And you should see his ass.” He made two rounded shapes in the air, “It’s so big and juicy and just...” Xabi dug his fingers into the imaginary globes of flesh, closing his eyes as he imagined it again.

“I bet you already took a bite.” Stevie wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Xabi grinned gallantly. “I left plenty for you.”

“Thank you.” Stevie was smiling from ear-to-ear now, a real devilish glint in his eyes.

“Anyway,” Xabi broke off, the authoritative tone in his voice returning, “The real reason I called you in was to brief you about Fernando. You see, the thing is he’s a virgin. Or, well, at least, an ass virgin.”

Stevie’s jaw dropped, and the frown lines Mikel always thought were permanent actually smoothed out for a full moment. “No.”

“Yes.” Xabi said, trying to stifle the obscene grin threatening to split his face in two again. “Now, you know this means there’s an added responsibility on you.”

“I’ll be very careful and gentle,” Stevie struggled to remain solemn, and Mikel could see him bouncing on his toes excitedly already.

“I’m sure he’s not _really that delicate_ ,” Mikel suggested deprecatingly. “Fernando told me Xabi already ploughed a finger in him during auditions.”

Stevie scoffed. “That’s nothing.”

Xabi added, patting the front of Stevie’s jeans fondly. “I bet he’s still plenty tight for that monster of a cock of yours.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Stevie murmured into Xabi’s ear before sneaking a kiss at the fleshy lobe.

Xabi purred as he pulled away, “Good boy. Shoot’s tomorrow evening, Carra will give you all the details later.”

“Alright, boss,” Stevie said with a salute.

“Be good. I’ll try to drop by to see how you’re treating the new kid,” Xabi reminded, rounding the table to sit back down at his desk.

When Stevie had left, Xabi reopened the files he was checking, until he realised Mikel still standing there in his office as quiet as a mouse. He took small steps near his boss, finally speaking up, his voice strange, curious and almost timid.

“Do you like Stevie?”

Xabi scoffed as he went back to his computer. “He’s my top dog. Of course I like him.”

Mikel’s long stretch of unusual silence forced Xabi to tear his eyes away from the screen and at his secretary who was smiling coyly at him. He shook his head and returned the grin. Pushing his seat away from the desk to make room, he patted his thigh. Mikel obediently approached him and sat down on his lap, settling happily there.

“So, Stevie’s your favourite.”

Xabi grinned smugly, knowing where Miki was heading towards. He nuzzled the underside of his jaw affectionately – a rare show of genuine affection from the frigid Basque.

“Maybe,” Xabi murmured, “Or maybe after you.”

Mikel purred under his breath, letting his fingers skim playfully over the stubble on Xabi’s chin. After a few seconds of contented silence, however, Xabi reverted back into his no-nonsense self. There wasn’t even a transition. It was just like there was a switch that Mikel didn’t know someone had flicked.

“Alright, off you go, then.” The boss said, pushing Mikel off his lap abruptly.

“W-what?” Mikel asked in confusion as he tumbled off, Xabi pulling his chair close to the desk now and opening his email again.

“I’ve got a lot of work.” Xabi only looked up for a brief second to command venomously, “And for crying out loud, Mikel, my directions were clear! Can you make sure no one else disturbs me again? Can you handle that, hmm?”

Mikel stood there, agape, nodding wordlessly.

“Good. Now, go.” Xabi said with an air of non-negotiability and finality. He started banging around the drawers again as he looked for his calculator, muttering a lengthy to-do list to himself.

Mikel made his way to the door and back to his desk outside. He didn’t even attempt to stall any longer because, knowing Xabi, once he got into this mood, it was ridiculously hard to get him out of it. He sighed – just another day in the office then.

*

Fernando had been staring at his mobile for a good 30 minutes, he had the message memorised in his head.

Fernando, first shoot tomorrow. 6 PM, Alvaro Arbeloa’s flat.

He didn’t know Jamie Carragher, only that he was the head of the talent department. He was probably just as short-tempered as Xabi, seeing how curtly he texted. But that didn’t stop Fernando from dialling his number with shaking fingers, holding his breath as it rang and rang.

Suddenly, an angry, almost incomprehensible voice demanded: “What?”

“Jamie...”

“Carra.”

“Oh, Carra,” Fernando corrected himself, “It’s me...”

“Fernando, I know. _What?_ ” Carra impatiently prodded the boy to just cut to the chase.

“Uh,” Fernando stammered, unable to come up with anything. What had he called Carra for? A good luck greeting? A pat on the back? An inspirational talk to motivate him for tomorrow?

But Carra had already started yelling, “Oh, don’t you fucking tell me you’re backing out at the last minute because I already have too many bloody problems to deal with. If you flake out on us now, I swear to all that is holy that I will find you and skin your bony little body alive”

Fernando unintentionally let out a little blubbering whimper of fear into the mouthpiece and that threw Carra off unexpectedly.

The Scouser sighed and asked again, although slower and less venomous this time: “What do you want, kid?”

Fernando gulped to steady his voice. “Do you need me to bring anything tomorrow?”

There was a second of silence before –

“No.”

Then, Carra hung up.

Fernando stared at his mobile, dumbfounded for a full moment, before he dialled Carra’s number again.

“Stop calling me!”

“Carra, come on, please, help me out here!” Fernando was almost pleading. “This is my first time!”

“Son, do you have any idea how many boys like you have passed through me already?” Carra retorted heartlessly.

“Well, at least, is there anything I should prepare...?”

There was a loud snort over the phone before the talent manager answered blankly: “Your ass.”

Then, the call was over again.

Well. There were no two ways about it now. There it was, straight from the horse’s mouth. Grabbing the newly-bought tube of lubricant off his dresser, Fernando headed to the bathroom with a renewed sense of purpose.

*

Mikel was peeing when he felt someone stand beside him and use the urinal next to him. Convention would tell you to keep your gaze straight ahead, but this was Blacklisted, so normal didn’t really cut it. He let his eyes fall to the other man’s cock, but the man wasn’t taking it out of his pants. Confused, Mikel instinctively checked out the stranger next to him, only to find Daniel next to him, grinning a wide Cheshire cat grin.

“Disappointed?”

Mikel flushed the urinal then zipped up. He shrugged nonchalantly, “Nothing I haven’t seen in your videos.”

Dan raised an eyebrow. “Nothing you don’t want to check out again?”

Mikel dipped his chin and watched the Dane from under thick eyelashes, “Are you proposing something?”

The last thing he remembered clearly was Dan smiling mischievously at him. Then, he was thrown inside a cubicle roughly, his body colliding noisily with the plastic walls. He hadn’t even recovered in time to face the taller man when he was forced down to his knees on the tiled floor. When his eyes refocused and his mind stopped teetering, he saw Daniel positioning himself in front of his face – his jeans were being unzipped and his underwear was being pushed down messily.

Mikel stared up at Daniel with dark, dark eyes. “You make me feel so cheap.”

Daniel pressed the tip of his flaccid cock over Mikel’s pursed lips. “You love it. That’s why you’re such a perfect bitch for Alonso.”

The Basque smiled wryly, then wrapped his lips around the thick shaft of Danish meat. He sucked at the head, before drawing the entire length in his mouth, feeling it hardening and twitching against his tongue. He bobbed his head gently, slowly, until Dan moaned above him.

“Miki, I need a favour from you.”

The secretary shuddered hearing his nickname being pronounced in such a foreign-sounding way. He hummed in reply, “Hmm?”

Dan paused, cock halfway out of Mikel’s mouth, saliva trailing off the tip.

“I need you to pencil me in for the new boy’s shoot.”

Mikel snickered in disbelief. “I can’t do that.”

Dan frowned and gripped Mikel’s short hair painfully tight, forcing him to look up and meet the Dane’s glowering expression.

“You control everything that goes in and out of Xabi’s office. Of course you can do that.”

Mikel ran his hands over Dan’s thighs soothingly, but his tone was mocking. “Shoots are only the most important thing there is to organise. They go between Xabi, who’s meticulous, and Carra, who’s stubborn. Tell me, do you think they won’t notice if white-out Steven’s name and scrawl yours above it?”

Dan growled and gripped either side of Mikel’s face to keep him in place. “So, you’d rather let Stevie get the job and give Xabi even more reasons to worship the ground he walks on?”

Mikel knew that wasn’t true – that Xabi didn’t like him that way and Stevie wasn’t really that horrible either. But when you’re kneeling on the bathroom floor with someone looming above you, you’re not really in a position to negotiate.

Mikel sensed what was happening and he tried to hold down Dan’s hips. However, he wasn’t fast enough or strong enough either. Dan started thrusting suddenly. Then, it wasn’t so much of Mikel giving a blowjob as it was Daniel fucking the other boy’s open and willing mouth.

Dan bent over Mikel to pump into his mouth harder, growling frustratedly, loudly, “Oh, fuck, yeah, let me use that dirty mouth of yours!”

The head of his cock rammed against the back of Mikel’s throat incessantly, and the Spaniard loved every second of it – loved how Dan’s cock made the walls of his throat ripple and the coarse feeling it made against his lips as it moved in and out of his mouth. His moans were incomprehensible gurgles around Dan’s shaft. He sat back on his ankles as he let Dan take absolute control, opening his mouth as widely as he could so he could take everything in and still get a bit of air once in a while.

Dan bit his lip, hips still thrusting in rapid succession. Mikel sucked hard on the sides to call Dan’s attention. It barely worked, as Dan slowed down a bit, but that was all Mikel needed as he pulled away to gulp in some oxygen.

“I’ve got another proposal,” he said, still panting.

Dan leaned back on the door of the cubicle tiredly, shoulders sagging but cock at full mast. “What?”

“How about I give you the details of the shoot instead? You might not be in it, but at least you’re there to crash it.” Mikel said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Dan’s forehead furrowed. He was listening.

Mikel continued as he stood up and sat back down on the radiator to rest. “That way, nothing gets traced back to me, and you still get a chance to knock Gerrard off his throne.”

Dan’s features twisted into a devilish smile. “I think that might just work.”

“I knew you weren’t one to play by the rules,” Mikel snickered, as he threw off his shirt and unzipped his pants to jack himself off.

Dan closed the distance between them as he stroked his own cock too, following Mikel’s rhythm. Their moans intermingled as they watched each other try to get off and soon, Daniel was coming, his seed hitting Mikel’s bare chest and stomach. Mikel moaned harder as he felt the hot, sticky liquid coating him, and he came in his palm too. He brought his hands up and smeared it all over his upper body, watching in fascination as their semen mixed indistinguishably.

“Do we have a deal?” Dan murmured huskily, bending down to lap experimentally at Mikel’s come-slick nipple.

Mikel whimpered deliciously. “God, yes.”

Dan smiled, straightened up and zipped his jeans.

Stevie may have Xabi, but whoever had Mikel had everything.

*

Fernando had stalled long enough – he had brushed his teeth, exfoliated his face, taken a shower and conditioned his hair. Now, there was only him and that tube of lube standing ominously by the sink, calling out to his fingers.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he grabbed the lube and settled on the floor. He didn’t really know how to go about this, but he went down on his hands and knees anyway, hollowing out his back so he could stick out his butt. His breath was starting to shorten by the second as he uncapped the tube and poured a dollop on his shaking hand.

He rubbed his palms together to spread the lube and heat it up, then shutting his eyes tightly, he reached around him blindly and felt around for his entrance.

The second he accidentally brushed his pucker with a cold finger, he instinctively drew in a loud gasp and lunged forward. Fernando opened his eyes and the light was too bright and his ass was still tingling in anticipation.

Trying again, although more slowly and more deliberately this time, he located his entrance again. He took calm, stable breaths as he let his fingers coat his entrance with probably too much lube. He tried to ignore it at first, but the steady brushing sensation was sending his guts in a knot. And the more he slicked on lube, the more he felt his hole loosening, so much so that his fingertip could accidentally slip in an inch effortlessly.

Ignoring the way he was panting now, he put in more lube on his right hand, so much lube his hand was glistening and oily and making a mess on his leg and the floor. He pushed in half his index finger first, then with caution dropping, he shoved the whole finger in. His eyes flew open in surprise as he felt the entire length slip into him, how strange it felt to have something in there (again) and how hungry he felt for _more_.

He groaned through gritted teeth as he moved his finger around and felt the soft flesh inside. It was so hot to his touch, and he wondered if that was how it felt for a cock and how good that burning feeling could be.

Fernando pulled out again and liberally applied even more lube to his index finger and middle finger now. Now his heart was slamming against his ribcage noisily. This was the next level – Xabi had stopped at one and at least that wasn’t entirely new when he tried it himself.

His hole was closing fast because of his growing anxiety, so he had to move now. Pushing two fingers in, he had no idea how this would even fit. The tips only bumped against the narrow entrance in vain, too scared to put too much pressure.

“Fuck it, Nando, come on,” he urged himself on, trying to think of all the porn he’s watched – those guys had entire erect dicks being ploughed into them, sometimes even two dicks at once. There was no way he couldn’t shove two fingers in his ass.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the two fingers into him violently, his ass breached and his hole aching at the suddenness of the entry. But good god, Fernando groaned so loud it echoed in the bathroom. He was even more filled now, and the deeper he pushed in his fingers, the more it seemed like his ass was sucking it in.

“Nando, I need to use the bathroom!”

That must have been Sergio and that must have been the loud, pounding noise Fernando was hearing, but he was too far gone for all of that to really register. He pumped his fingers inside him slowly, relishing the feel of his ass clinging on to the digits. Then, he upped the pace and every thrust in sent the flame in his gut flaring even more.

He tried to contain his noises, but he was a quivering mess now. He fucked himself unrepentantly, while he thrust forward in a pathetic attempt to rub his cock against his thighs and his towel. What little friction it created must have been enough because soon Fernando blew his load all over the floor.

“Fernando! Let me in!”

Fernando tried to catch his breath, leaning his forehead on the cool bathroom tiles. His vision was still blurred and his fingers were still wet and slippery.

“J-just a second,” he feebly answered as he climbed up to his feet, his legs still shaking. He stumbled to the sink to wash off the lube from his hands and his buttocks and his legs. Then, he capped the lube and hid it behind Sergio’s rows and rows of hair products.

“Fernando!” Sergio bellowed impatiently now.

His come was still a mess in the floor, so Fernando grabbed a huge wad of tissue paper, dampened it with water and haphazardly wiped the tiles. He wasn’t sure if he got every spot, but he threw the mess into the toilet then flushed it loudly, dizzily washing it swirl down the drain.

He glanced at himself in the mirror – he was sweaty again and his cheeks were red and his lips were pale. Fuck it. He threw open the door and kept his head down in case Sergio could read his expression.

“What the fuck were you up to?” Sergio demanded suspiciously, hands on his hips.

“Nothing, I just – I just ate something bad.” Fernando hastily explained, pushing past Sergio and walking quickly to his room.

“Oh, for crying out loud! Fernando, you’re so disgusting!” Sergio called out after him, horrified. He looked at the bathroom doubtfully, flapping his hands to air it out. “Why the fuck am I stuck with a loser like you?!”


	3. Work days, work daze

Sergio choked into his cereal when Fernando entered the kitchen that Saturday morning.

“Why are you all dressed up?”

Fernando frowned and looked down at his outfit. So, he had worn his crisp, long-sleeved button-down. And maybe he bought a new pair of jeans yesterday because he didn’t have anything that wasn’t faded or torn or baggy. And okay, maybe he had taken out his leather shoes again, the ones he wore to his cousin’s wedding and never again.

“It’s my first day at work,” Fernando coughed.

Sergio snorted. “You’re going to work for McDonald’s. I think you’re slightly overdressed. Just slightly.”

“It’s Burger King,” Fernando corrected. He patted his hair self-consciously. “And I just wanted to be presentable.”

Sergio guffawed again, shaking his head. Fernando felt his cheeks heating up as he went straight to the cupboard to take out another bowl for himself.

“Oh, by the way, there’s no more milk.” Sergio announced lazily, just as Fernando had poured himself some cereal. He sighed loudly.

“Well, I guess it’s toast for this morning then.” Fernando mumbled, pouring the cereals back to their plastic bag with great difficulty.

“Why are you up so early anyway? You’re usually just about to go to sleep at this time because you’re playing that zombie game.”

Fernando pushed two slices of bread into their rusty toaster with a little too much force. “First, it’s Left 4 Dead, okay. And I’m early because I don’t wanna be late for my job.”

“Hm. What time are you starting?” Sergio asked, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm.

Fernando checked his watch. “Oh, 1 PM.”

Sergio wheezed as a Cheerio entered his windpipe. “WHAT?” He choked. “Fernando, it’s only 10 AM!”

Fernando turned around to face Sergio, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment again. “Like I said, I just want to be early.”

“Yeah. About _three hours_ too fucking early.”

Oh, hey, the sarcasm was back.

But he had to commute all the way to Alvaro Arbeloa’s house, which was a good fifteen minutes away by bus. Twenty if he got into one of those slow buses too. And...

“Fine, I guess I’ll just eat my sandwich here,” Fernando relented, pouting. His bread popped out of the toaster in time. Still pouting to himself, he took out the bread with his bare fingers. He didn’t know if he accidentally dropped the toast because he got burnt or because he suddenly felt Sergio behind him.

“Sergio, what...” Fernando half-blabbered, half-bit on his tongue, as he frantically tried to pick up the bread and put them back on his plate before he violated the three-second rule.

“Hmm?” Sergio purred innocently against Fernando’s ear. His arms were snaking around Fernando’s waist now. Fernando tried to calm himself. Five seconds ago, Sergio was just on the table eating Cheerios. Now, he was behind him. Pressing up against him. With his arms anchoring him to Sergio’s body.

“I... I...” Fernando stammered. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just gripped the plate hard, he feared it would break.

“Look at you, all dressed up for your big job,” Sergio said, and Fernando couldn’t tell if Sergio was taunting him or encouraging him or just finding a string of words to pant lustfully against his ear. “With your new shoes, and you’re all... _focused_ and everything.”

Oh, god. Fernando shifted uncomfortably as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

_He was so horny._

He could feel the strong curve of Sergio’s chest aligned with his tense back. And he could feel Sergio experimentally feel the starched finish of the new denim of his jeans. He could come right now and Sergio hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Now that you’re staying in for a couple more hours...” Sergio trailed off huskily, and Fernando could only whimper weakly, “Yeah?”

_He was like a teenager._

“You have any plans?” Sergio asked, and just by the way his breath blew against the side of Fernando’s neck, he could tell the gypsy was smiling. Smiling widely.

“Good,” Sergio giggled flirtatiously before driving them forward against the counter. Fernando bit back a loud grunt as his hardening crotch slammed against the wooden drawers.

_He was..._

“Since you’re free...” Sergio tilted Fernando’s chin so they could glance shyly at each other.

“Uh-huh?” Fernando practically panted out.

“...Do you mind doing the dishes?”

_He was so, so easy._

Fernando’s shoulders sagged and he sighed dutifully. “Sure.”

Sergio broke away from him and grinned widely. “Aw, Fernando. You’re such a cutie.” He placed a playful, wet smack on Fernando’s cheek then bounded out of the kitchen.

*

When Fernando got to Alvaro Arbeloa’s doorstep, it was five minutes before 1 o’clock. For someone as anal as Fernando, that was not a good sign. He was getting jittery. He pressed the doorbell loudly, hoping someone answered before he was officially late.

After a good three minutes of nothing, he jabbed the button again and again. He checked the nameplate of the house. #17. Exactly what Carra had texted him. Alvaro Arbeloa, #17.

Finally, the door flew open and a very irate, tall and spindly boy with dark curly hair and long, long eyelashes greeted him.

The boy stared at Fernando up and down. Took in his neatly-pressed outfit and his barely-used shoes and asked sceptically, “You’re not one of those Mormons are you?”

“...Excuse me?” Fernando’s eyes bulged out.

“You know, those dudes in suits that come to your doorstep to sell them Bibles. I don’t want no Bibles, man.”

“B-but.”

“I live a life of sin, you see.”

“...Are you Alvaro?”

Alvaro looked a tiny bit spooked. He demanded, “How do you know my name? Did my mum tell you to come here?”

“No, no,” Fernando stammered out, holding out his hands. “I’m... I’m Fernando.”

Alvaro didn’t look any more at ease. “So?”

Fernando groaned. This wasn’t happening.

“I’m... I’m the...”

“You’re...?”

“I’m... thenewpornstar.”

Alvaro blinked. Then threw back his head laughing, chortling wildly to himself. “Oh, god. Say that again!”

Fernando frowned and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “Am I at the right place?”

Alvaro was still giggling, “Yeah, yeah. Come in.”

Fernando was still embarrassed as he crossed the foyer. He began apologetically, “I’m sorry, I’m not usually this late.”

Alvaro stopped to check the clock in the hallway. “What? It’s only 1 PM.”

Fernando shrugged, “But Carra said the call-time was 1.”

Alvaro slapped his thigh and laughed again, “Oh, they only just say that so everyone doesn’t arrive at, like, 6 in the evening. The crew will probably come in at 2 and, well, Stevie will come in when he feels like it, I suppose. Probably at around 3 or 4.”

“WHAT?” Fernando exploded. And here he was roasting in his too-thick denim and his long-sleeved polo and his toes were pinched in his leather shoes. “But... but the call-time said...”

Alvaro shrugged nonchalantly before grinning, “Welcome to the porn business, sweetheart.”

*

**Pre-Production Timeline**

1:10 PM – “Where is everybody?” Fernando whines whenever Alvaro tries to offer him tea.

1:14 PM – Alvaro settles for showing Fernando around his house to shut him up.

1:18 PM – Alvaro finishes the tour of his house. So, he lives in a small flat.

1:20 PM – Fernando and Alvaro settle down in the bedroom where Alvaro informs the new kid is where they’ll shoot the porn flick. That shuts up Fernando for a good ten minutes.

1:31 PM – “So, I’m going to be fucked on this bed?” Fernando asks hollowly, eyes empty and cheeks pale.

1:32 PM – “...You’re not a virgin, are you?”

1:35 PM – “Oh, fuck. You are.”

“I... I told Xabi I was.”

“Well. This will be fun.”

“You mean that... in a good way, right?”

1:40 PM – “Do you know what you have to do for the shoot?” Alvaro asks Fernando. The boy is a bit more subdued if not scared now. Alvaro likes him better this way. Fernando shakes his head slowly.

1:45 PM – Alvaro unearths the shotlist Carra gave them last week. It was at the bottom of his underwear pile. “You’re in luck. It’s a pretty basic script,” he informs Fernando. “Just a make-out scene, a blowjob, a rimming, a fuck, and probably some emergency extra shots of you guys cleaning each other up. Pretty straightforward.”

1:50 PM – Fernando wants to throw up. He’s suddenly thankful he didn’t have Cheerios this morning.

1:51 PM – Alvaro rants out loud, “See, it’s basically a two-friends-fall-into-bed-and-fuck film. No brainer. I could do that.”

1:52 PM – Alvaro adds, “Xabi didn’t want to make it overly complicated, you see. Said you were a lightweight.”

“I’m not a lightweight!”Fernando defends himself queasily. He is still pale and shaken.

1:59 PM – Pepe bounds into the room.

Alvaro greets him loudly, “Wa-hey! Pepe, glad you decided to come to work today! At least we have two cameramen now.”

Pepe guffaws. “Couldn’t leave you alone, could I? You’d probably ruin the entire shoot by yourself!” He plops down on Alvaro’s bed while it’s still sanitary. He points his toe at the blond, still boy sitting by the desk.

“Whossat?”

Alvaro shrugs. “New boy.”

Pepe rubs his chin. “Does he ever do anything?”

Alvaro glances at Fernando, still shell-shocked. “Not really.”

2:30 PM – Alvaro and Pepe are too busy setting up cameras and lights to entertain Fernando. Fernando decides he is a moment closer to his brain shrivelling up and falling out of his ear.

2:45 PM – Thankfully, a new arrival. He drops into the room with a big, cheery “HOLA!” Fernando wonders if all the people in the Blacklisted crew are Spanish.

2:46 PM – “Who’s he?”

“The new boy?”

“Is he really that pale?”

“Yes, plus he is always nervous so double yes.”

“Fernando, this is Albert.”

“He’s Spanish too, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, in case you were too thrown off by the fact that someone Spanish is actually named Albert.”

“He takes care of the sounds.”

“Yeah, whenever the boom mic drops into the scene, it’s his fault.”

“We always tell him that his boom mic is gonna enter the frame, but he doesn’t listen. He just keeps walking straight into the set. He says it’s for ‘superior sound quality.’”

“Yeah, but we all know he’s just a pervert. Look at those beady eyes. And that wide smile. That is the face of a pervert.”

Fernando stares, horrified. Pepe and Alvaro grin to themselves smugly. Albert smiles at Fernando widely, eyes extra beady: “I’m Albert, pleased to meet you.”

*

Most of the crew had started filtering in already just around the time Fernando had decided he was going to die of a nervous breakdown. Albert, Pepe and Alvaro were like the Three Musketeers of pornography, and Fernando was getting even more overwhelmed by the second. Now Fernando knew he should ask Xabi not to partner him up with some French guy named David N’gog because his dick was like three popsicles taped all together. When Fernando groaned that he didn’t need to know that, Alvaro just nodded seriously, saying, “You do need to know that,” then Fernando feared for his life.

Next, Carra had stormed into the room – and just by his red face and angry eyes, Fernando knew that was the same Carra who had kept yelling at him over phone calls and sending text messages with all caps and multiple exclamation points. He lost no time and started ordering around people.

Thankfully, a small, cheery guy called Dirk Kuyt arrived, and he immediately sent Fernando to the bathroom to change into a robe so they could fix his hair and make-up already.

“Just so we don’t get any wax or powder on your nice clothes,” Dirk said sincerely as he handed him a terrycloth robe, and Fernando wanted to die of embarrassment on the spot.

So, right now, Fernando was wandering around Alvaro’s narrow corridor looking for the door to the bathroom. When he crossed paths with a newcomer climbing up the stairs.

Fernando stopped in his tracks to give way to the stranger, just because he was the newbie and the guy was probably a Blacklisted employee and there was hierarchy in pornography too. He dropped his gaze for good measure too.

But the man in front of him stopped walking as well. Confused, Fernando dared to peek up quickly.

The stranger was looking at him. Scrutinising his face.

“You the new boy? He drawled like prepositions and conjunctions were beneath him.

Fernando fidgeted from foot to foot, then nodded wordlessly.

“They start yet?” He asked curtly again, but curiously, the boy leaned on the banister. Fernando thought he was doing that to get a better look of him. He could feel the tingly sensation of knowing someone was gazing at you from head to toe.

“No, they’re still setting up,” Fernando began and continued to ramble, “Dirk just sent me to the bathroom to change for hair and make-up, but all the others are inside Alvaro’s room, I think.” He ended with a weak, fake laugh. His answers sounded even longer when compared to the stranger’s silence and the way the silence echoed in the narrow corridor.

There was no emotion in the stranger’s face as he nodded at Fernando’s robe and towel. “Need help with that?”

Fernando almost didn’t catch the innuendo because of the flat way the boy said it. When he realised the undertone of the question though, he immediately blushed. “No, no, I’m okay, really, I’m just... I can handle the robe by myself, thanks...”

For a split-second there was a flash of emotion in the boy’s face. A half-smirk – somewhat confused and condescending and amused at the same time.

Fernando ducked his head again and with an apologetic smile, he went on his way. He hurriedly passed by the other doors in hopes of chancing upon the bathroom.

A soft cough interrupted Fernando.

With blood running cold in his veins, he slowly turned around.

“Bathroom’s that way, blondie,” the stranger said, still unmoved from his spot, jutting his thumb in the opposite direction of the corridor.

Fernando winced before shrinking into himself and slinking back down the hallway.

“Sure you don’t want a hand?” The boy asked. He was smirking again. A hint of mischief more visible now.

“I-I’m okay,” Fernando squeaked as he scampered past the boy the second time around.

When he got to the end of the corridor, and he caught a peek of the bathroom tiles from the crack of the door, he sighed thankfully.

“Hey, blondie,” the boy called out again, and Fernando grabbed the bathroom doorknob like it was his key to salvation.

“Yeah?” Fernando murmured nervously.

“What’s your name again?”

Fernando blinked. “Um. Fernando. Fernando Torres.”

The stranger pushed off from the stair railings and for one nervousexcited moment, Fernando wondered if he was going to approach him.

But the stranger just went on his way to Alvaro’s room, shrugging, “Probably not gonna remember that.” He winked, “Besides, I like ‘blondie’ better.”

*

Carra looked up from the script he was reading as the door to Alvaro’s room opened and closed. He peered through the fast-growing heap of equipment stashed by the side of the room.

“Danny?” He craned his neck to make sure. “Is that you?”

A bored “who the fuck else” answered him.

Carra frowned, rolling his eyes and returning to his script. “Nothing, I thought it was Stevie who arrived, but as usual, I guess he’s late.”

Pepe looked up from the rack of lenses he was inspecting. “What else is new?”

Alvaro giggled as Daniel plopped on the bed Carra had just ordered fixed a while ago. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

Carra looked up too, as he came to the same realisation. “Yeah, this isn’t your shoot. Why are you here?”

Daniel smiled as he reclined on the pillows luxuriously. “Nothing. Do I need a reason to check up on you guys?”

“Do you ever,” Carra muttered, shaking his head ominously. He dug his mobile out of his pocket to call Xabi and Stevie. This looked like it wasn’t going to be smooth sailing.


	4. Talk with your hips

Stevie was shopping around Topman when his phone rang. For the first few rings, he decided to ignore it as he found a gorgeous brown leather belt that would go really well with his jeans. But his mobile kept on ringing, and the saleslady was giving him an irritated glance already, that he had to take the call.

“Yo.” He answered lazily, still examining the belt up to the light.

“Where the fuck are you?” Steely and sharp. This could be no one else but…

“Hi, Xabi,” Stevie greeted chirpily. His heart beat nervously for a second, because this was the boss and he didn’t sound like he was in a good mood today (or in any other day, really), but he was usually in good terms with Xabi, so he didn’t really mind. “I’m just going around the shops. What’s up?”

Another sales clerk approached him, carrying a large pile of clothing he had selected earlier. “Sir, should I bring these to the fitting rooms already?”

Stevie shot the pimply boy a stern look and covered the mouthpiece so Xabi wouldn’t hear it. “Yeah, prepare those clothes for me. I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Don’t you have a shoot today?” Xabi asked and Stevie wondered why the Basque sounded funny. He sounded tight, like he was gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. But he didn’t heed the warning signs just yet. Maybe Mikel was sucking his dick under his desk or something. In this business, you never really know.

“Yeah, but it’s still early,” Stevie said, dropping the belt back onto the rack, not even bothering to hang it. He glanced at his heavy, steel Audemars Piguet watch – 3:45 PM. “I’ll head there in a while.”

There was a split-second of silence, and then Stevie knew. It was the calm before the storm. He didn’t even have enough time to brace himself, and Xabi was already yelling at the top of his lungs:

“WHAT THE BLOODY FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU’LL BE THERE IN A WHILE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE RIGHT ABOUT FUCKING NOW!”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Stevie said, trying to calm down the boss. He sat down on one of the couches and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked good today. “Why are you so worked up?”

Xabi never answered questions. Instead, he threw them back. No, yelled them back.

“What, you’re not worked up? You should be! If you’re not in Alvaro’s house in half an hour, I’m getting Daniel Agger to replace you!”

Stevie barked out laughing. “Right. Daniel Agger. That freak.”

Xabi laughed too. Drily and sardonically. “I’ll have you know that at this very moment, Daniel Agger is in _your_ shoot.” He was calm, like he was savouring the idea of picking on Stevie, “The crew won’t really have any reason to wait up for you if they have a replacement anyway.”

That tore the Scouser’s eyes away from his reflection. “Excuse me?” He demanded, tone high-pitched and incredulous. “That boy can’t even fuck a blow-up doll if he tried.”

Xabi scoffed. “We’ll see in 30 minutes.”

“What?” Stevie burst out again. He jumped to his feet, “Fine, fine, I’m leaving now, just _wait,_ okay?”

“Thirty minutes, Gerrard!” Xabi warned, before dropping the call. Stevie groaned and pocketed his mobile.

“Sir, your clothes are in the dressing rooms – ”

“Save it,” Stevie said, roughly brushing past the confused sales clerk.

*

Carra burst into Alvaro’s bedroom, face contorted in repressed anger and mobile clutched tightly in his paw of a hand.

“Xabi’s given us the go signal,” he announced gruffly. “If Stevie isn’t here in 10 minutes, we’re starting without him.”

Dirk’s jaw dropped and his head swiveled around to face –

“And if that happens,” Carra said loudly, “Yes, we’re shooting with Daniel.” He followed it with an unimpressed eye roll. Needless to say, Carra was not delighted with the news. But it didn’t matter because Daniel was, and the triumphant grin on his face was the most expression anyone had seen on him today. Or ever.

Daniel stood up, all serious and business-like, with an air of a man victorious. He nodded in Fernando’s direction and clicked his tongue as if he were calling a pooch. “Come on, blondie. I want to brief you,” he said authoritatively.

Fernando echoed hollowly, “Uh… Brief me?”

A small, mirthless smile played on Daniel’s lips. “Yes.” He jutted his thumb to point to the door, “In private.”

The boy paled and shrank behind Dirk and his make-up kit. He bleated out nervously, “I… I…”

Dan groaned in exasperation and grabbed Fernando by the wrist, tugging him forcefully behind him. “Let’s. Go.”

As the pair walked away, Albert called after Fernando, “He has STDs!”

And Dan didn’t even bat an eyelash when he hit back, “You can’t spell ‘stud’ without the s-t-d.”

The speed at which Fernando’s head swiveled around could not have been safe. And if the Spaniard was slinking half-heartedly behind Daniel before, he was a nervous basketcase now. “Daniel, maybe I should just…”

But Dan just shook his head and yanked Fernando along, no-nonsense. “Don’t make me do it the hard way, baby.”

Fernando whimpered and slowly trudged along after the Dane, while Alvaro, Pepe and Albert waved them on unsympathetically.

“We should be worried for the lad, right?” Alvaro asked unsurely.

Pepe shrugged before going back to the tangle of wires he was rolling out. “Not really.”

Albert yawned, “Maybe, kind of.”

“Daniel will probably maul him.”

“Are you kidding? We’re talking about Daniel. Boy’d be lucky if he just got mauled.”

“Oh, yeahhh. Who’s betting there will be chains involved in this, er, ‘briefing’?”

“…I don’t have chains in my house, Pepe.”

“No way, really?”

“Yeah, his mother still comes to visit Pwintheth Alvie, you see.”

“Yeah!” Alvaro nodded vehemently, “And you all keep leaving props at my house, what the fuck! Somebody left a dildo in my kitchen the last time, my Mami almost died when she saw it.”

Albert cracked up, “Really? What did you say?”

“I… told her it was a cucumber?”

“What.”

“It was a green dildo, okay.”

Albert and Pepe blinked. Slowly.

Alvaro scoffed. “What, you’ve never been fucked with a vegetable before?”

There was a longer, more eerie silence. Even the nearby crew members did a double-take.

Albert nodded slowly. “Well, Arbeloa,” he gave the scrawny back a mighty slap, “I don’t know whether to be violated or impressed. Sex and fresh produce… sounds like a titillating combination.”

*

“You don’t have to worry,” Daniel was saying as he led them downstairs into the living room. “I don’t have STDs.”

Fernando’s face must have looked completely distrustful because Daniel snorted, “What, you think Xabi ‘Anal’ Alonso would have let me in Blacklisted if I wasn’t clean?”

Fernando smiled just a little because he could definitely see Xabi conducting surprise health checks and demanding for pee samples from everyone. “I guess you’re right.”

“You have to learn to trust me,” Dan said, his voice was soft and smooth but just sinister enough. Fernando looked him up and down, with his ripped jeans and his tattoos peeking out of his shirt. And his hair gelled into a small Mohawk. Trust him? Fernando would have to work on that.

“Sit,” Dan commanded and pushed Fernando down by his shoulders. Fernando sank down on the couch without a choice. What was he going to do, argue? Instead, he just squeezed into the corner of the couch so he could be farthest away from Daniel.

Unfortunately, of course, despite the stretches of space in the living room, Daniel chose to sit beside Fernando. Right beside Fernando. If not half on top of Fernando.

“Are you nervous?” He asked breathily.

“N-no.” Fernando squeaked, refusing to have any eye contact with the Dane.

“You sound nervous,” Dan taunted, pressing closer so his face was right by Fernando’s cheek.

“Of course not,” Fernando tried to protest, but he just ended up squirming helplessly against the corner of the sofa to get away.

“I heard this is going to be your first time,” Dan snickered, leaning in close so hot air blew against Fernando’s ear.

The blonde gulped as he tried to defend himself. “I’ve… I’ve watched porn before.”

“Uh-huh. And have you had sex before?”

Fernando bit his lip before answering defiantly, “I practised last night.”

Daniel burst out laughing. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind Fernando’s ear. The Spaniard flinched but had no more space to move away.

“Pray tell me, what kind of practise was it?” Daniel whispered.

Fernando kept his eyes trained on the bowl of plastic fruits on the coffee table in front of them. If he moved his head just a fraction of an inch to the side, he would be face to face, lips to lips with Daniel.

“Touched yourself?” Dan asked so innocently, Fernando almost looked at him. But his attention was dragged away by the heavy hand that dropped on his knee and gripped it tightly. Fernando breath wheezed as he inhaled loudly, and then he brought his legs together tightly to try and ward off Daniel’s touch. It didn’t work.

“Do I get to watch a rerun?” Dan’s hand travelled confidently up Fernando’s thigh, pressing down intently on the flesh. Fernando’s eyes were wide as he watched, slowly losing his nerve, and he could only lean back so much. Finally, when Dan’s hand was at the crook of his thigh and crotch, Fernando bolted. Jumped straight up to his feet taking the first step to the stairs when –

“Where are you going?” Dan growled possessively, his hand swiftly catching on to the waistband of Fernando’s jeans and pulling him back down roughly.

Fernando yelped as he felt a strong tug backwards and he fell back on the cushions, arms waving wildly in the air as he tried to grip on something for support. But Daniel quickly pinned him down and climbed on his lap, jamming his knee down hard so it was wedged tightly between the Spaniard’s legs.

“I… I think Alvaro’s calling us,” Fernando squeaked, in an attempt to negotiate with the other man.

Daniel just grinned mischievously. “I think you should stop talking.”

Then, he slammed their mouths together so ferociously, it knocked Fernando’s head back with a dull thud against the plaster of the wall. Fernando groaned painfully, and Dan snickered into the kiss in response.

And as the blonde struggled on the couch, the more space it made for Dan to push his knee in deeper, and the more it seemed (felt) like Fernando was grinding against it.

“Yeah, push, baby,” Dan panted encouragingly, rocking against Fernando’s body rhythmically.

Fernando’s fingers clutched at the cushions, thoughts whizzing in his mind. He was being taken. Against his will. Daniel’s tongue slipped into his mouth, slick and warm. And it wasn’t like this was _horrible_ at all. In fact, the element of danger gave a charge in the air about them. Maybe the solution to this was to be… simply taken, and to will it. He was a porn star, for crying out loud. Maybe he had to stop being such a prude about sex. …Right?

Fernando found himself giving an inch, tilting his head to the side to give them more space. Dan obliged willingly and easily probed deeper into the soft insides of the Spaniard’s mouth. A small whimper escaped Fernando’s lips even before he could quell it.

Dan pulled away just a fraction. Fernando couldn’t see it but it seemed like he was smiling. Triumphantly too, probably. “Enjoying?” He asked.

Fernando blushed and coyly shook his head.

What happened next, Fernando didn’t understand. The front door had opened and someone was entering the living room. Not bursting in, and the footsteps weren’t rushed, so Fernando didn’t bother looking up. Whoever it was wasn’t in a hurry or in a fit of rage. But it sure did make Daniel stop and turn around.

“What, you can’t get a fuck without having to force the boy?”

Fernando glanced at the newcomer. His accent was funny, but he was staring at Daniel confidently, laughingly. Daniel’s glare, on the other hand, was smouldering.

“What are you doing here?” Daniel demanded.

“Couldn’t let the new boy just put up with you, could I?” The man shrugged nonchalantly. Fernando’s head snapped up as he stared dumbly at the newcomer. The man nodded at him and grinned, making cute little furrows on the man’s forehead.

“We were doing fine without you,” Daniel hissed. Then, he gripped Fernando’s chin possessively, his nails digging into the boy’s cheeks – Fernando yelped in pain. Daniel moved to make a show of kissing him, and Fernando braced himself, screwing his eyes shut and pursing his lips.

Suddenly, the pressure, the weight on Fernando’s lap and chest disappeared.

He slowly opened one eye. And Daniel was on the floor, while the stranger had a strong grip on the scruff of his neck and the collar of his shirt.

“What the fuck?!” Daniel was lashing out, already trying to scramble to his feet.

The stranger swiftly pulled Fernando off the couch, then stood between him and Daniel.

“What?” The man challenged back, fists clenched. He wasn’t going to back down.

“You little piece of…” Dan took a step forward, his face contorted in anger.

“Oy! Oy!” Now, Carra was standing by the banister of the stairs, yelling down at them. “Stop your fucking riot! Some of us have a shoot to start!”

All the shouting was sending Fernando dizzying, and he clutched the man’s shoulders in fear. He didn’t know who he was, but he appreciated the way his broad shoulders created an effective shield between him and Daniel and even Carra.

“Stevie, if you’re ever that late again, I’m going to cut off your fuckin’ bollocks!” Carra was red-faced and spitting as he pointed at the newcomer.

 _Stevie._ Fernando stared at his saviour. This was Stevie.

“And Daniel,” Carra turned to glare at the Dane. “Rules were clear. You’re here as a sub. Unless you want me to involve Xabi in this, why don’t you go now?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dan snapped.

Stevie snickered. “Fine. You can watch us.”

“Yeah, I would rather be fucked by a rusty spoon,” Daniel snorted.

“Bloody hell, Daniel. I didn’t know you were that twisted,” Stevie winked, and that riled up Daniel even more.

But Carra was having none of it. He yelled threateningly, “Stevie, Fernando, you two had better come up here NOW!”

Stevie shrugged and gave Daniel a helpless grin. “Sorry, _Danny._ Just following orders.”

And as Daniel gaped, and Carra gazed on expectantly, Stevie took Fernando’s hand and led him back upstairs to the set.

*

Mikel was crouched over his computer and busily typing his latest Marketing Summary when the intercom beeped loudly.

“Shut up,” the Basque muttered to the phone as his eyes didn’t even leave the screen. He was on a roll, his fingers flew effortlessly over the keyboard.

But the intercom beeped again, more insistent now.

“Fucking hell,” Mikel cried out, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. He snatched the phone from the cradle and practically barked: “Hello, Executive Office, how may I help you?”

Xabi’s tone was measured and blunt. “Mikel, come to my office.”

Mikel stifled a sigh: what Xabi wants, Xabi gets. “Okay, boss.”

When he walks to Xabi’s office, the Basque is already by the doorway, arms crossed tightly, foot tapping. Imposing, yes, but was it anything new? Not really. Xabi had a stick up his ass every day.

But what Xabi did next did take Mikel by surprise. Grabbing his assistant by his jacket, Xabi roughly yanked Mikel inside his office, then kicked shut the door.

“Why the fuck has Daniel Agger crashed the shoot today?!” Xabi demanded so loudly, spit flew from his mouth.

Mikel’s heart skipped a beat, but he was stressed and haggard enough to be brazen. “I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about!” He shouted right back.

“You’re the only one who controls all the details of the shoot!”

“So does the entire production crew!”

“And you were the only one here who knew Daniel wanted to be cast in the new flick with Fernando!”

“Oh, and I helped Daniel out?!” Mikel screeched.

“How else could he have done it?”

“Daniel has always been cheap and underhanded!”

“Yeah, and what did you trade the information for, huh, Mikel? A blowjob? A hard fuck? Was he good?” Xabi taunted one by one, and Mikel felt painted in a corner, his face blazing and his eyes tearing up in frustration and guilt and in self-preservation.

Xabi smiled, sensing the chinks in Mikel’s armour, “Daniel’s always been an ass. But he’s never crashed shoots before. What’s different now?”

Mikel frowned as he protested blindly. “Well, he’s never been that jealous of Stevie before.”

Xabi laughed humourlessly and raised an eyebrow.

“Are we still talking about Daniel? Or you?”

That was when Mikel’s jaw dropped. Then, he shook his head in disbelief.

“I don’t care what you get up to with Stevie.”

“Good.” Xabi nodded then slowly walked back to his desk. “Because the next time you meddle again – _rest assured_ – I’m demoting you.”

“WHAT?” Mikel exploded.

Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. “Shoots were your job, and you fucked up. That has to be reflected _somewhere._ ”

Mikel spluttered, but he knew he had no argument. He stood there with his fists clenched to his sides, words tangled on his tongue but in the end, he could just take in the sermon.

When Xabi started rifling through his files again, Mikel found it in himself to speak up. Barely. He mumbled, voice thick in pent-up anger, “If there isn’t anything else...”

Xabi looked up briefly, like he had just been disturbed.

“Oh, that Marketing Summary? Have it done by tonight.”

Stomach dropping, Mikel practically screeched. “But that isn’t due til next week!”

Xabi was unmoved. “I want to scan through it before you make the final version. Tonight, Arteta.”

“But... but... Tomorrow?” Mikel was growing breathless as he suddenly realised the magnitude of work that was crashing down upon him. “I mean, it’s not humanly possible for me to submit it by 6 PM when you leave the office!”

Xabi sighed dismissively. He went back to his folder, “Drop it off at my house, I don’t care. _But I want it sent tonight._ ”

Mikel went weak at the knees, a migraine already brewing by his temples as the stress threatened to settle in. “Whatever you say, boss.”

*

Fernando was sitting by himself on Alvaro’s desk chair, as he watched the crew set up the last of the cameras and lights. Soon, they’d have to go on set, and his heart was still palpitating over the confrontation earlier. He was hugging his knees to his chest when Stevie walked over to him.

“You okay, princess?”

The corner of Fernando’s mouth twitched. He’s been called tons of nicknames in this day alone, but somehow, that term of endearment made the knots in his stomach loosen a little.

“I’m okay. Thanks for... you know.” Fernando trailed off meekly.

Stevie grinned easily in return. “No problem.”

The Scouser nudged Fernando’s back gently, and the Spaniard obediently got to his feet. Stevie took his place in the desk chair but didn’t miss a beat in pulling Fernando back down onto his lap.

“I don’t think we ever got the chance to introduce ourselves.” Stevie extended his hand. “I’m Stevie.”

Fernando looked at the Scouser over his shoulder and couldn’t help the giddy little smile on his face. “I’m Fernando,” he said as he shook Stevie’s hand.

“Daniel didn’t give you trouble, yeah?”

Fernando shook his head. “You came on time.”

Stevie shot him a lopsided grin. “Always do. That’s why directors love me.”

A hot, bright red blush spread on Fernando’s cheeks, and Stevie’s grin faltered a little. “Wow, so you really haven’t done any of this before, have you?”

Fernando didn’t answer. He fiddled with his thumbnail.

“Okay,” Stevie began slowly. “What can you do?”

Fernando gaped, opened and closed his mouth like a fish, and no words could come out. “I... I...” He scrambled helplessly.

Stevie wrapped his arm around Fernando’s waist in a bid to make him feel more comfortable. “How far have you gone?”

Fernando babbled for a long, long time.

 _‘I am a virgin!’_ He wanted to scream, but he was already dying in mortification as it was. He hadn’t done anything right the entire day, and now he would have to admit that he was a loveless loser to the most popular porn star in Blacklisted.

“...Third base?” Fernando lied, but Stevie looked relieved. “Is that far enough?” 

“Okay, third base. So, you can suck my dick. Do you like sucking dick?”

Fernando gulped. What was this barrage of questions? Wasn’t it hard enough already answering the first ones?

“I... I can manage, I think,” he coughed out, and Stevie nodded oblivious to Fernando’s humiliation. In his mind, Fernando was already trying to think of how he was going to manage to do – he cringed at the word – _fellatio_ on Stevie. Open mouth, put in dick. That was it, right? Was that even going to fit?

Stevie interrupted his thoughts though: “Anything you want me to do in return later?”

Now, Fernando’s eyes were bulging out of his sockets. Why was Stevie offering sexual favours?

“Uh. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

Stevie laughed. “No, you’re the new kid. What do _you_ want?”

Fernando’s throat was dry. He was scared shitless, and now a hint of anticipation was rushing through his veins too. _I want your tongue, your finger inside me. And I know it will hurt, but I want your dick inside of me too, please._ The words rumbled at the back of his throat, but he bit them back.

Fernando suddenly became acutely aware that he was sitting on Stevie, and he could barely feel the edges of Stevie’s bulge graze at his back. His imagination went wild immediately – he imagined it hard and and at full-mast, an iron rod pulsating hotly in between his legs.

Fernando shifted uncomfortably and crossed his legs to keep himself in check.

“I can fuck you,” Stevie whispered, teasingly. “I don’t think we have a choice about that.”

Fernando tried not to twitch as he felt Stevie’s breath tickling at his nape. He just nodded his head vigorously.

Stevie rubbed small circles on Fernando’s arms with his thumb. “The key there is to just enjoy it.”

Fernando coughed and dared to glance at his partner for a second – “Will I? I mean, will I enjoy it?”

Stevie just smiled, unruffled. “Well, I’ve never had any complaints before.”

Fernando laughed, but he was strangely out of breath. “Sounds great,” he squeaked.

*

By the time Mikel finishes his Marketing Summary, it’s a little past midnight. He hasn’t had a bite since lunch, his clothes are rumpled from sitting on his ass the entire day, and the gel from his hair had all been combed off as Mikel incessantly ran his fingers through it in stress.

Xabi had packed up and gone home a good three hours ago, and he wasn’t going to check his email until the morning – until past Mikel’s deadline. Sighing as he printed a hard copy of the Marketing Summary, Mikel knew the only way he could pass his documents were to bring it to Xabi’s house – about three and a half bus rides away, all the way in Albert Dock.

Mikel packed up his things, shut down his computer and made a pitstop to Xabi’s office. In the third drawer of his lateral cabinet, a ring of keys was buried underneath all the income tax forms. Xabi had warned him on his very first day on the job, “Only for emergencies.” This was an emergency in Mikel’s book, thank you very much. He wouldn’t be going into the devil’s lair if it wasn’t.

Xabi Alonso’s place was a two-storey, terraced, detached house. Breathtaking even in Mikel’s fatigued, sleepy state. That must be where all his executive pay goes to. He trudged up the steps and hesitated only when he arrived at the front door. Keys in hand, he slowly inserted them in the keyhole, and it went in without a sound, smoothly unlocking the door.

The house was just as glorious inside as it was outside. Letting his fingers glide over the mahogany table by the foyer, Mikel padded around looking for a safe place to leave his report. He eventually ended up wandering into the living room.

Just as he was crouching down to leave the papers on the coffee table, he heard the front door open and slam close behind him.

Mikel jumped up in shock and banged his knee against the glass of the coffee table. He bit back a yelp as he hobbled on one foot to face the newcomer.

“Hurt yourself?” The boy laughed easily.

Mikel smiled back, ashamed. “I’ll live.”

The boy nodded, before hanging his jacket in the coat hanger. “Any reason why you’re in my house?”

Mikel blushed brightly. “Sorry, I just had to pass a report for Xabi. He needed it tonight, I didn’t mean to – ”

“My brother working you to the ground?” The boy asked knowingly, nodding his head at the inch-thick Marketing Summary.

Mikel grinned, “As always.”

The boy slowly nodded. “I’ll have a word with him to stop harassing you.”

The Basque’s jaw dropped, “No, no, no,” he repeated frantically. He was hanging by a thread in this job as it was, “It’s nothing, I mean, late nights and overtime, that’s what assistants are for.”

Xabi’s brother laughed. “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t get you in trouble.”

Mikel looked reluctant, but he nodded nonetheless. “Thanks...” He trailed off, not knowing the other person’s name.

The man smiled brilliantly as he extended a hand, “Mikel.”

“Nice.”

“What’s yours? Or should I just call you Xabi’s assistant.”

“Mikel,” Mikel Arteta replied nonchalantly.

Mikel Alonso stalled. “Wow.” His face broke into a charming grin. “Awesome.”

“Mikel.” A voice rang clearly from the second floor, and both boys instantly looked up. There was Xabi, sleepily making his way down the stairs.

“Here’s your report, Xabi,” Mikel Arteta said, handing him the packet, face blank. He refused to forget their fight earlier. Xabi just snatched it out of his hands indifferently and Mikel knew the boss wasn’t even planning to read it soon. That made him all the more incensed.

Mikel Alonso must have read the tension because he commented, “Being a slave driver again, Xabier?”

And Mikel Arteta had to look up in amazement – nobody ever talked to Xabi that way, with an implied putdown and disapproval. Xabi also lashed out at anyone who called him by his full name.

Mikel Alonso’s face was an uncanny replica of his younger brother’s – but kinder, lighter, more open. Like smiles came easier, and so did words.

Xabi growled at his older brother but did not dare answer back.

Mikel Arteta meekly spoke up: “I... I should probably go ahead now.”

Mikel Alonso nodded at him, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Xabi crossed his arms over his chest and called out sternly, “Mikel.”

Both of them looked up again. Xabi hissed in annoyance. Mikel Alonso laughed though, and it put Mikel Arteta at ease.

“How do we resolve this?” His boss’ brother asked.

Mikel Arteta shrugged, “You can be Mikel. I prefer ‘Miki’ anyway.”

Xabi snapped. “You never told me that.”

Miki didn’t look his way – he couldn’t. “You never asked.”

Mikel looked between the two and placed his hand on Miki’s back instead, gently ushering him to the door so they could end the tense confrontation. Miki followed him obediently.

“Sorry about that, Xabi must be cranky,” Mikel whispered conspiratorially, leaning close to Miki so Xabi wouldn’t hear as they walked away.

Miki giggled, “It’s nothing new.”

“Alright,” Mikel said as he opened the door for Miki, “Nice meeting you.”

Miki blushed. From just above Mikel’s shoulder, he could see Xabi rooted on the spot in the living room, watching them lividly. 

“It was nice meeting you too,” Miki answered, casually leaning in for the customary Spanish buss on the cheek.

“Don’t work so hard,” Mikel laughed as they both pulled away.

Miki nodded and grinned, walking down the steps of the Alonso house.

“Good night,” a deeper voice called out, and that almost made Mikel stumble on his feet. He turned around and saw Xabi join Mikel by the foyer.

Miki couldn’t help the vengeful smirk on his lips as he gave the brothers a small wave. _Who’s jealous now, Xabi?_


	5. For your entertainment

**Scene 1, Take 1**

Fernando is playing video games. Steven enters through the door. Fernando looks up. Stevie grins.

“Busy?” Stevie asks.

Fernando turns back to the television. Stevie waits for the answer – 

And waits.

And waits.

And –

“Well, for Christ fuck, Fernando, do you plan on saying your line within the next hour or so?” Carra shouted sarcastically from behind the cameras. “You know, just tell us, so we know if we should keep on filming in anticipation.”

Stevie threw his hands up in the air. “Take a chill pill, Carra. It’s only his first scene.”

Fernando blinked a few times, still in a stage fright daze, even after the scene is cut. “I... I... just forgot.”

Stevie smiled as patiently as he could. This was nothing new for a newbie. “You were supposed to say, ‘Nothing. Do you have anything planned?’”

Carra snapped again, “Yeah, it’s the only line you have before the foreplay starts. That’s probably about 1.5 seconds of acting I’m expecting from you, boy.”

Fernando’s lips trembled, and Stevie snapped at his friend, “Jesus, Carra, relax! We’re just ten minutes into shooting. No one gets it right this early!”

The Spaniard glanced gratefully at Stevie, but he still looked more nervous now. Carra rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “Fine! Get your act together, lad. Two minutes, then we’re trying again.”

Stevie tentatively sat beside Fernando on the bed. “You okay?”

Fernando stared at the controller in his hands, the sweat leaving greasy marks on the plastic. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just... yeah.”

Stevie reached out to rub his back, “Fernando – relax.”

And Fernando had to look up because that was probably the first time anyone even mentioned his name – his real name – this day.

“Think of it this way: you’re going to have to end up acting anyway, if you want to finish this shoot and earn your first paycheque. The more you make mistakes, the more we get delayed, the more we’re prolonging this torture.”

Fernando bit his lip, smiling nervously, but at least he was still smiling nevertheless, “But, I’m just so freaked out, you know?”

Stevie grinned, relieved that Fernando was responding to him somehow. “Don’t worry, princess!” Stevie said, ruffling the blond hair, “I don’t think this is the type of job anyone can get used to doing. We all freak out.”

“You still freak out?” The Spaniard asked, the corners of his lips twitching.

Stevie paused. “Well, no.”

Fernando barked a short laugh – it felt good to let that out. He took a deep breath then pursed his lips. Stevie rubbed his back again. Then with a brave nod and a shaky smile, Fernando signalled to Carra. Pepe let the cameras roll and yelled, “Scene 1, Take 2!”

**Scene 2, Take 5**

“Stevie, I don’t know how many takes of canoodling we need to have.” Carra said, tapping his pen incessantly on his chipped clipboard.

Stevie glanced over his shoulder to where Fernando was getting a quick touch-up with Dirk. “I don’t know, Carra.”

Carra placed a hearty smack on Stevie’s shoulder. “Stevie, lad. I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. Get to the business. Now.”

Stevie glared at him, but he knew Carra was right. They’d been an hour into shooting, and the most Fernando had let him do was to climb on top of him. If you must know, Fernando also kept his legs together – tightly – while the straddling happened.

Xabi was not kidding when he said this was an added responsibility for Stevie. Sighing heavily and rubbing the back of his neck in distress, he padded over to where Fernando was patiently, primly waiting for him on the bed, hands on the lap and lips pursed.

“Relax,” Stevie said for the nth time that day, but his face was already breaking into a smile. He couldn’t help it. Fernando was so lost and clueless, it was amusing. Different, but amusing. And slightly endearing.

“I am relaxed,” Fernando said flatly and with a stiff upper lip. Stevie shook his head, then gently took Fernando’s hands off his lap, and laid them to his side. Then, he pushed back Fernando til he was reclined on the pillows, tugging at his legs for him to stretch them out a bit.

“Better?”

Fernando looked down at himself unsurely, then up at Stevie. “It’s okay.”

“Good,” Stevie grinned again, and the Spaniard felt slightly more at ease. Until Stevie climbed on to the bed and climbed between his legs and climbed on top of him.

“Okay, not so good,” Fernando mumbled nervously. He tried not to stare at Stevie’s face so he wouldn’t go into a mental meltdown, so he just lowered his gaze until it rested on... Stevie’s chest. Which was no good because it was just baked golden brown, and his nipples... and the hair... and his torso chiselled in little fleshy squares like caramel delights, and Fernando didn’t need to touch it to know that that stomach was rock hard. Fernando instinctively lowered his gaze even more and found Stevie’s boxer briefs: white and tight and clung to every curve like second skin. Shit. Stop.

Fernando finally took a deep breath and looked into Stevie’s eyes.

“Done?” Stevie asked. His grin was provocative, like he knew Fernando had just been checking him out, intentionally or otherwise.

“Uh-huh,” Fernando squeaked.

“I’m going to have to kiss you, you know.” Stevie put it bluntly.

Fernando didn’t reply, mostly because he was completely caught off-guard. He faked a laugh, “I-I... I know you have to, I’m just – ”

Then, Stevie kissed him.

Fernando immediately shifted away, rasping out a shocked whisper, “Stevie! People are looking!”

Stevie rubbed at the boy’s arm, “Shhh. They’re still setting up.” He glanced over his shoulder and saw Carra, and the three Spaniards trying to look busy and failing horribly. “Besides, this is our personal practise time.”

Fernando tried to look around too, but Stevie quickly grabbed his chin so the Spaniard could only look at him – only him. “What do you say we try again?”

Biting his lip, Fernando nodded slowly, before closing his eyes, preparing himself for Stevie’s second kiss.

Stevie looked over his shoulder and found Carra. He flashed him a discreet thumbs-up, then held his finger to his lips. Carra nodded, instructing the crew to start filming and to start filming quietly.

Turning his attention back to the waiting boy, Stevie crouched down over him then tucked his unruly blonde hair behind his ears.

“Just imagine that you’re kissing your boyfriend.”

Stevie meant for it to be reassuring advice. But instead, Fernando’s eyes flew open. He was blushing as he tried to explain, “I don’t have a...” The Spaniard gulped and tried again, “The last guy I was with – my, uh, roommate – he says I was a bad kisser.” He bit his lip, “You know, I’m just warning you.”

The Scouser felt his stomach turn. This new boy was strange. In a way that made Stevie want to teach him, take care of him. Claim him.

“Come on, we’ll just try,” Stevie coaxed with a tenderness he’s never used in this job before. He nudged Fernando’s chin upwards then captured his lips into a kiss again. The newbie responded with the same stunned immobility. But Stevie was damned if was letting some virgin destroy his track record of general awesomeness.

Stevie used one hand to keep Fernando still on the pillows. With another, he hooked around the back of Fernando’s neck, to massage against the tense muscles there at the nape. Fernando’s lips instinctively parted to moan gratefully. Seizing the opportunity, Stevie presses deeper into the liplock, until he can right about just taste the tender flesh inside Fernando’s mouth.

“Okay?” Stevie asked as he broke away to check. Fernando’s eyes were still half-hooded but he nodded dazedly.

Smirking, Stevie followed up: “How about you follow my lead this time around?”

Fernando finally found enough energy to open his eyes and briefly snap out of his stupor. He licked his lips as he nodded in response.

**Scene 7, Take 3**

_Gasp._

It was just like in the porn films, Fernando mused to himself as he heard Stevie’s sharp intake of breath. Of course it would be just like in the porn films – he added to himself with a mental slap on the forehead. In reality though, he continued kissing along Stevie’s Adam’s apple – exactly what caused the Scouser to gasp to begin with.

They had changed positions by now, with Stevie propped up on the pillows this time and Fernando on top, taking charge. Carra had ordered it, and so it was done. In a way, it helped Fernando feel at ease too. Burying his face in Stevie’s chest helped him hide from the cameras, and it wasn’t so difficult figuring what to do.

Like, licking the valley in the middle of Stevie’s chest.

_Gulp._

Stevie swallowed audibly. The Scouser had been quiet for some time now, and all that Fernando could hear was how his breathing changed based on what he was doing to him. Just like in porn films.

And Fernando didn’t really have any experience in this department, but at worst, it was a game of trial and error.

Like, nipping at Stevie’s collarbone.

No reaction.

Fernando slid downwards for a new zone to try. He experimentally licked a clean line around Stevie’s right nipple.

_Pant. Pant. Pant._

Bingo.

Fernando licked another circle – tighter now, with his tongue dancing precariously along the edges of the nub. 

_Pant pant pant pant pant._

And what if Fernando latched his entire mouth to it, the nipple warm and hardening against his tongue, too fascinating that he had to try flicking his tongue against it, one, two, three times, and it flipped right back at him. Then, he sucked at it too, suckled on the nub like he was thirsty, almost drawing it against his teeth.

“ _Uuungh._ ” Stevie groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his chest, vibrating under Fernando’s hands.

Fernando smiled to himself as he suckled again. Jackpot.

**Scene 11, Take 4**

“Third base,” Stevie introduced the scene, looking down at Fernando who was already positioned on his knees in front of him. “You’ve done this before, so there’s no need to panic, right?”

Fernando gulped, unable to look at Stevie straight in the eye. Was this the right time to admit that he had lied?

“Okay, no more screw-ups, everyone! We’re running behind the shooting schedule!” Carra yelled from somewhere in the set.

Okay, now was not the right time.

“Everyone ready?” Carra asked, looking at the three Spaniards, “Cameras? Lights? Sounds?” All three gave a thumbs-up.

“Okay, boys, action!”

Stevie smiled down at Fernando and pat his head in reassurance, “Just think of what you want other people to do to you. You know, kind of like the Golden Rule. Except it’s for sex.”

Fernando nodded, trying to put on an air of confidence that hopefully would convince him as well. He planted his hands on each of Stevie’s strong thighs, feeling the hair underneath his fingers, a soft carpet covering firm muscle.

Holding his breath, Fernando leaned in to nuzzle Stevie’s crotch, still covered in his boxer briefs. He let the tip of his nose seek out the bulge. And when he found it, cautiously and tentatively, he let his lips latch onto it, pressing them dryly onto the length.

And if there’s anything Stevie loved about fucking virgins, it was this – watching them take a cock into their mouth for the first time. The unsure way they started, shaking and awkward, and then the look in their eyes when they tasted the salty, musky flesh. And then, the eagerness that suddenly sparks in their eyes when they realise that this could be good, and the hunger of their mouths when all they want to do is to get you off and taste that spunk on their tongues and their throats. God, just the anticipation of things to come was making Stevie harder already.

“God, Fernando,” Stevie let out a shaky breath. Fernando looked up questioningly, with big, big eyes and lips still wrapped around his crotch – Stevie had to whimper again. He ran his hands through Fernando’s blonde hair, the locks tangling around his fingers, letting him get a good grip on the Spaniard’s head.

“Come on,” Stevie nagged impatiently at him, tugging him forward. Fernando’s face was pressed right against Stevie’s groin and there was something erotic about the way he could feel the solid meat of Stevie’s erection poking against his cheek.

Carra watched the frustrated way Stevie licked his lips, thrusting slowly against Fernando’s face, and desperately trying to put the Spaniard’s hands along the waistband of his underwear so he would yank it off already.

“Pepe, I want your camera on Stevie – I want to see his reactions up close.” He instructed to his headset, “Alvaro, keep yours on the blowjob and don’t fuck it up. This... this is golden.”

No one answered. Carra looked around to check on his crew – they were all watching the scene intently.

“Guys.” He said again, positioning the microphone of his headset directly by his lips.

Pepe was the first to respond. “Uh. Yes, yes. Copy, sir.”

Alvaro cackled next, “Uh-huh, better keep your eye out for Albert though. You know how easily he gets distracted.”

There was a long silence until a belated “I do not!”

“See? Watching the porn.” Alvaro tsked.

Carra rolled his eyes. “All of you, back to work!”

Fernando finally yanked down the thin fabric of Stevie’s boxers, and he was rewarded with a caress on his cheek and the murmured, “Good boy.”

Like a pet rewarded, Fernando went straight to attend to Stevie’s cock. He took the head and tip of the length into his mouth and what he couldn’t swallow, he wrapped his fists around, so that the entire meat was covered. His right hand twisted clockwise, his left hand twisted counter-clockwise, and his head bobbed back and forth. It didn’t make any sense to his mind, but his body just did it and easily found a rhythm. In a way, you couldn’t not _learn_ to give a blowjob. It was anti-learning – the more you thought, the more you hesitated, and the more you hesitated... well, nobody liked a stop-start mouth. You had to just do it.

And Fernando was doing it with all his heart.

He removed his hands from the thick base of Stevie’s cock and replaced it with his lips, but the girth was too wide for him to suck on it. He did the best he could lapping at it from all sides to coat it evenly in his spit, and Stevie’s groans were getting loud and clear. The Scouser didn’t stop thrusting either, and Fernando thought there was something insanely mindblowing about having an erect, throbbing cock slap at his cheek wildly.

Stevie’s hands were crooked and scrunched at strange angles now. One hand clawed at his own hip, desperately trying to give himself a point of pain, a point of distraction from the blowjob he was slowly losing control over; the other was entangled in his own short crop of hair, cradling his head that he’d thrown back when Fernando bravely attempted to deep-throat him and came very close to achieving it.

“Fuck...” Stevie’s moans were becoming pitchy now. “Fuck, yes... yes!” And Fernando bobbed harder, hollowing out his cheeks because he imagined that kind of vacuum and pressure would feel good and true enough, Stevie skipped a beat or three as he bucked.

Stevie panted, struggling to wedge his eyes open but they were so heavy and even if they were open, it felt like his eyeballs had rolled all the way until the back of his head, and all that he saw was a beige blur – it turns out he was staring up at Alvaro’s ceiling.

“Cut...” he gasped faintly, and no one seemed to have heard him. Or no one seemed to be interested in heeding him.

“Cut!” Stevie said louder, staring straight at one of the cameras – usually a strict no-no – and glaring straight at Pepe through the lens until the cameraman looked up from his viewfinder. 

“Carra?” Pepe asked unsurely. Both cameras were still rolling but the footage was quickly becoming unusable now, with Stevie standing there and drawing his hand across his neck and rasping impatiently, “Cut! Cut, for crying out loud!”

Carra groaned and threw his hands up in the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine! Cut! End scene, everyone! End scene!”

The crew came to life lethargically, like an audience slowly being weaned out of hypnosis.

“What the fuck was that, Stevie? Who died and made you director?!” Carra demanded, stepping out from behind the lights to stalk onto the set, confronting the lead actor.

Stevie threw his hands up in the air, his cheeks red from exertion and embarrassment. “What, do you want me to come now?” He shot back, “Exactly. No. So give me a fucking breather, will you?!”

Fernando sat back on his haunches, eyes wide and shifting between the two Scousers. “Is there anything I...” Carra silenced him with an angry slice of the hand, and Dirk immediately came over, “Maybe we should do your make-up and hair again, Nando,” he improvised kindly, ushering the Spaniard away.

Once the boy was far from earshot, Carra hissed, shaking the younger Scouser by the arm like a ragdoll. “Close to coming, Stevie? Seriously?” Carra scoffed, “We’re just halfway through the script!”

Stevie crossed his arms over his chest and stubbornly looked away. “I got turned on, okay? I’m just wound up today, that’s all.”

Carra laughed airily, entirely unconvinced and Stevie glared at him in return. Legs still trembling and still slightly out of breath, Stevie pressed his hand down on his erection, the other squeezing the base of his cock in a futile effort to make his arousal flag. Carra watched on shamelessly.

“You’re not usually this easy,” he noted.

Stevie glared at Carra, then trapped his cock more harshly. “God, just give me 10 minutes, alright?”

**Scene 12, Take 1**

“Are we all ready?” Carra said, raising an eyebrow at Stevie. The actor just scoffed – confidence regained after his earlier embarrassment – while Fernando just nodded meekly behind him.

Alvaro scanned the shotlist and piped in, “Good, cos the scenes are going to get even more fun from this point onward.”

Pepe and Albert exchanged a knowing grin, and that made Fernando’s stomach drop all the way to his feet.

“W-what’s happening?” He whispered hollowly to Stevie, unable to tear his eyes away from the three Spaniards hiccoughing in giggles.

Stevie glanced at the blonde. “I don’t know,” he said with all the innocence he could feign but a lopsided grin pulled on his lips.

“Lad,” Carra called his attention by placing heavy hands on Fernando’s shoulders. “Don’t ask. Just...” he waved his hand to the right, “go to the bed.”

Fernando turned his head to Alvaro’s bed, the sheets only just slightly rumpled and the pillows still pristine white. It would have looked inviting had it not also been Fernando’s designated altar of shame. He gulped, then made his way to the bed, dragging his feet heavily behind him.

To his surprise, Stevie started walking alongside him to the bed too. He even beat him to the top of the mattress.

“How do you want me?” Stevie asked Pepe.

The bald Spaniard was circling the bed, making a small square with his fingers as he tried to imagine the scene in a frame. Finally, he rubbed his chin and instructed, “Lie on the bed sideways.”

Stevie climbed on and lay down perpendicular to the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, across, like that,” Pepe nodded, going around the Scouser and fixing how his legs were splayed. “Bent at the knee – yeah, yeah. And then just about a foot apart. Right, perfect.”

Fernando watched with wide eyes, completely entranced. This did not look good. Well, it did, but you get the point.

“Oy,” Carra snapped his fingers to catch Fernando’s attention. He nodded towards Stevie lying prone on the bed, “Up and over, lover boy.”

“...Me?” Fernando murmured dazedly.

“No. Me.” Carra retorted sarcastically. “Well, of course, you! Who the bloody fuck else would it be?”

Fernando winced as Carra’s words hung in the air, and no one in the crew, not even Dirk or Stevie, spoke up. He couldn’t scramble to the bed fast enough.

“Er, how do I...?” He trailed off, not knowing how to position himself.

“Here,” Pepe said, taking him by the arm and guiding him on the mattress. “Over Stevie.”

Fernando swung his leg over Stevie’s torso so he could straddle him. Stevie flashed him a smile, and Fernando thought it was a congratulatory one, or a comforting one, or a god-you’re-so-hot one.

Instead, Stevie tapped Fernando’s leg and chuckled sheepishly, “Honey, I think Pepe meant, the other way.”

Fernando was smiling back at him goofily before the words sank in. He blinked a few times and laughed nervously, “Excuse me?”

Pepe clapped the other Spaniard’s shoulder. “Yeah, face the other way.”

Fernando bemusedly switched positions, straddling Stevie again but this time, their bodies laid out in opposite directions.

“Think of it as... mutual gratification.” Fernando heard Stevie say somewhere in the area of his legs.

Oh god. Fernando could hardly keep himself together when it was singular gratification.

“I-is this really necessary, because I just keep giving Stevie his blowjob if you want...” The Spaniard trailed off desperately.

Carra tapped his pen against his chin, “No. But if you really like sucking off Stevie so much, we’ll start off with you in this scene.”

“That’s not what I meant, I just – ”

“Action!”

Fernando groaned in frustration then ducked his head to take Stevie’s cock again. It wasn’t as hard now, and Fernando was getting pissed off to the point of tuning it all out. He mechanically bobbed his head, mindlessly repeating what he was doing earlier.

Until he felt Stevie’s hands brushing against his thighs as if he was just trying to test how they felt and ended up liking them. Fernando held in a shudder and kept his mind on the blowjob. Suck, bob, suck, lick. Again, suck, bob, suck – _oh, fuck._

Fernando wasn’t really used to anyone touching him there, it felt so foreign. Like his mind didn’t know how to process it and if it was okay to think it felt good.

Stevie pulled his buttcheeks apart and experimentally ran the tip of his finger down the crack. It was delicate, the way his nail barely made a lasting trace on his skin, but it sent a fresh sheen of sweat covering the long expanse of Fernando’s back.

“Stevie...” Fernando gasped, the Scouser’s cock falling out of his lip and he couldn’t find it in himself to take it again. With shaky arms, he tried to support himself on all fours, but Stevie placed a kiss on his butt. A long French kiss, determined to leave a mark.

Fernando moaned softly, rearing his body back to try and gain more of that attention, please.

Stevie sucked harder against the supple skin of Fernando’s butt, and with his hand, massaged the other cheek, methodically making its way from Fernando’s hip to the sensitive, inner flesh of his crack. Fernando was panting now, like he couldn’t get air into his lungs fast enough and he was feverish, and his body was just hot, too hot and breaking out in sweat _everywhere_. All he could do was lean his head on Stevie’s thigh, hoping he wasn’t going to collapse on his co-star anytime soon.

Stevie couldn’t see Fernando’s face but he did feel the little tremors racking the Spaniard’s body as he continued to teasing his ass. He grinned to himself – it’s always the 69 that gets them going.

Fernando started taking deep breaths to calm himself down. With trembling fingers, he took Stevie’s cock again and weakly attempted to stroke it from base to tip. Slowly, slowly at first, until he could get his act together again. He was getting there. Until Stevie experimentally licked at his crack.

“Ahh!” Fernando let out such an inelegant startled scream

Stevie slapped his ass lightly. “Surprise,” he snickered. Then he licked along the entire length of the crack again. Then lapped lightly at the rose pink pucker that emerged in the end.

“Stevie!” Fernando whimpered, his body trembling again. “Wait,” he choked out, trying to catch his breath first, preparing himself for the next attack.

But the Scouser took no heed and just lapped at his entrance again. Thirstily, this time, licking all around the pucker, on the pucker, trying to pierce open the pucker. Fernando couldn’t even begin to decipher the sounds falling out of his lips, because sweet mother of Jesus, the feel of Stevie’s tongue on him, _inside_ him – it felt so numbing, like his brain had melted and it was pouring out of his ears. Fernando had no capacity to think. All his reactions were pure gut instinct, and it was telling him to act in this almost primal, animalistic way.

Fernando’s body was rocking over Stevie’s now, bending his back so far it seemed to the cameras that he could break, rearing his butt out to Stevie’s mouth, tongue and teeth. The Scouser enthusiastically obliged. It gave him an overwhelming sense of power, of control, being able to spell Fernando’s undoing so quickly.

“Okay, cut!”

Carra’s voice was like an echo in Fernando’s ear. It felt so, so far away, that he blinked and the order was gone in his head, and all that mattered was to get Stevie’s stiff tongue penetrating him again. And Stevie – he wasn’t gonna stop if Fernando doesn’t ask him to.

Pepe looked up from the viewfinder of his camera, unsure of what to do next. As per Carra’s orders, the scene was cut. Alvaro had stopped filming, but at the same time, it didn’t feel right to miss this – Stevie had now violently shoved Fernando off him, Fernando had fallen on his back on the bed and the Scouser was straddling him right-side-up in a flash.

“Carra, what...?” Pepe trailed off into the mouthpiece of his headset, eyes fully trained and _mesmerised_ by what was happening in front of him.

“Cut!” Carra yelled again, louder now, but he didn’t make a move to walk into the scene and yank Stevie off of the Spaniard. “Cut!!” Carra just kept on yelling, flailing his arms in the air. At one point, he grabbed the clapper from the floor and started clapping it endlessly to catch the attention of the pair. The click-clack of the wood was painful to the ears, but Stevie and Fernando did not stop.

By now, Stevie had roughly grabbed Fernando by the hair and yanked his head a few inches up from the bed. Fernando scrambled to lift himself up too, seemingly unmindful of the pain – like all it mattered to him right now was to get up on his elbows so he could meet Stevie’s mouth and just kiss him. Kiss him hungrily and passionately and he’s never felt so... _wanting_.

Carra stomped his foot, this was not going according to plan. They were veering away from the storyboard, the angle of the cameras were still all wrong, Fernando’s make-up had all but smeared because he was covered in sweat and saliva. This was a disaster.

Carra harrumphed and yelled louder, “Stevie!” He admonished.

Stevie snapped back like he’d been awakened with a jolt. There was a lag before his eyes refocused, but when he finally located Carra –

“Jesus, I’ve been telling you to – ”

“Shut up,” Stevie snapped. “Get on with it, and just try to catch up.”

His eyes were practically red and burnishing in a possessed brand of anger. The only thing that diverted his attention away from lashing out even more at the crew was Fernando’s hands grabbing Stevie by the hips and pulling him down until his pelvis ground right against Fernando’s. They both broke into a strangled moan.

Stevie sucked at his two fingers quickly, then reached down around Fernando to line them up against his slick entrance. There was a flash of anxiety in Fernando’s eyes but it quickly died out under his drunken, dizzied haze.

Stevie pushed in one finger while Fernando’s hole was still wet and relaxed. It slipped inside, and Fernando’s eyes flew open. “Fuck.” He gasped.

“Just nice and easy,” Stevie murmured, one hand combing away the damp hair stuck on Fernando’s forehead. With the other, he pulled out his finger, then pushed back in again with two this time.

“Fuck!” Fernando shouted, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes tight. The sweat on his face pooled in the little crinkles of his skin as he grimaced.

Stevie kissed Fernando’s cheek and whispered, “Alright?”

He heard Fernando gulp down air, “I’m... I’m okay,” he panted out.

Stevie gently pushed his fingers deeper, twisting them in the entrance to loosen it up real good. Fernando writhed below him, and Stevie couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or in pain.

It was like someone had set fire on Fernando’s body. He was burning. Burning hot and feverish and delirious, with sweat breaking out and vision spinning around and arms uncontrollably flailing. He wanted to get away from the penetration prying him open, but the more Stevie dug his fingers in, the more trapped he felt until it broke into his consciousness the sensation of being filled.

“Just a little more.” Stevie jabbed his fingers inside and Fernando swore it must have been way past his knuckled because they felt unbelievably long inside him. Then the Scouser started pulling his fingers apart inside Fernando’s ass – criss-crossing them in a scissors motion and the flame inside Fernando cackled and spat.

“Stevie...” Fernando whimpered hoarsely, sapped of all energy to shout.

Stevie pursed his lips in concentration, “I’m just trying to look for...” he trailed off, busy as he placed his free hand under Fernando’s ass and easily hoisted it upwards to gain more access. Fernando’s body fell into the contortion as if he was under a spell. His entire weight was balanced on his thrown back head and his shoulders digging into the mattress and his quivering feet. From torso to knee, he was sloped upwards, ass hanging in the air, open and exposed.

Stevie’s patience was running thin. He pressed his fingers inside once more, trying it a different angle. It didn’t help that Fernando kept urging: “Stevie, come on, come on, what else are you trying to...?” Then his eyes opened comically wide, his entire body froze for a second. Then, he lost all energy, coordination, comprehension, and he was just collapsing back on the mattress.

Fernando didn’t know if it was him who let out that scream – he felt like he had been yanked out of his body and he was just _watching_ this happen. But in his eyes, he saw himself, boneless like a rag doll in Stevie’s arms.

“What... what...” Fernando could only splutter, his body responding about three minutes slower than his mind.

“That,” Stevie smirked smugly. “I was looking for _that_. You know, for future reference.”

Fernando shuddered, just at the mention of that strange spot he didn’t even know existed inside him. Stevie had just brushed up against it ever so lightly with the tip of his longest finger and it was like an entire shockwave electrocuted Fernando from head to toe.

Stevie pulled out his fingers from Fernando’s ass. The emptiness and soreness was just about to creep in on Fernando when a blunt, more massive... _thing_ lined up against his entrance. Fernando gulped.

“Stevie, no,” he found himself choking out, his fingers and toes suddenly getting cold.

“No.” Stevie cut off sternly. This was not the time to coddle the boy – he had to fuck him now because his cock was so hard, it was hurting.

Oh, and not to mention, that the cameras were running and everyone was waiting and this was the next in the shotlist anyway, Stevie notched as an afterthought.

He instructed gently, “Turn over. This will hurt less if you’re on your stomach.”

Fernando nodded, but he was a different person entirely now. His face was pale and his body had gone cold to the touch now. Even his erection was flagging quickly by the second.

Even Carra noticed the shift in the action and he instructed his men: “Alvaro, close-ups of Fernando. Pepe, I want you on the close ups of the fucking. I don’t need no more fucking long shots.”

Fernando settled onto his stomach half-heartedly. “Stevie, I don’t want to,” he whispered, hands scrambling across the sheets in a desperate attempt to cling to something. Stevie looked at Fernando straight in the eye and ordered sternly, “We have to do this now.”

Fernando whimpered but nodded nevertheless. Stevie climbed on top of Fernando again, and the Spaniard nuzzled his cheek against the bedspread like a lost boy. Stevie felt it tug at his heart. He rubbed at the back of the boy’s neck. “Just remember how good it felt a few seconds ago.”

Fernando didn’t answer this time, just buried his face against the bed and braced himself. Stevie took a deep breath and grabbed his cock to line it up against Fernando’s entrance. His dick hadn’t softened one bit, it was almost purple as it strained for attention and release.

He firmly pushed the head of his cock into Fernando. Stevie heard him gasp loudly in pain, felt Fernando contract around him tightly. But he doesn’t relent. 

“Relax,” he urged.

“I can’t,” Fernando panted, voice thick and pained.

“You have to or this will hurt even more,” Stevie snapped gruffly.

“I told you I was a virgin,” Fernando hissed back through gritted teeth.

“Will you stop it with that?” Stevie retorted. “The only difference between you and a slut is your tight, little hole. Other than that, you haven’t been half bad, so stop second-guessing yourself and just enjoy this, yeah?”

That shut Fernando right up. Stevie inched in deeper, past the delicate ring of muscle. Fernando closed his eyes and let out a choked sound, his entire body twitching uncontrollably at the intrusion, but Stevie held him down and kept him still.

“Relax,” he ordered again.

Fernando summoned whatever energy was left in him to follow Stevie’s command, willing himself to block the pain and loosen himself. Stevie felt the boy yield a little under him. He grabbed the opportunity and pushed his cock a few more inches in. Fernando muffled his shout against the mattress.

Halfway in, Stevie stopped and looked down at Fernando.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, brushing the bangs from Fernando’s sweaty cheek. It takes a few moments for the Spaniard to open his eyes, for them to come into focus. He nodded weakly, his body shaking as he panted breathlessly. His hands were clenched into fists above him.

“You’re doing great,” Stevie said, placing a peck on his shoulder. A faltering smile is the only sign that Fernando actually heard him.

“Go on,” Fernando said hoarsely.

Stevie pushed in again, a couple more inches until he found his way past the initial resistance. Fernando is so fucking tight and hot inside, he has to fight to control the depth of his penetration, slowly moving deeper instead of slamming all the way in like he very, very much wants to.

Stevie shifted closer to Fernando, his cock still lodged inside the Spaniard’s ass. He saw the raw emotion flicker across Fernando’s face at the slight movement. “I want you to remember this,” he murmured possessively against Fernando’s damp hair. “So that even if Daniel or that ex-boyfriend of yours fucks you, you know I broke you in.”

Then, looking deeply into Fernando’s glazed-over eyes, Stevie thrusted forward, burying himself to the hilt in a single, smooth stroke.

Fernando cried out, unable to bite it back this time around. His entire body shuddered, unforgiving and clenching around Stevie, instinctively trying to get away from the pulsating pain. The Scouser held down his hips to hold him securely beneath him. Fernando sobbed pitifully as Stevie waited for him to get used to the intrusion. He didn’t know if he ever would.

For a moment, they were both quiet and still and all that could be heard was the whirring of the cameras.

Then, Stevie began to move, and the perfect stillness fractured into bursts of violent colour and erotic heat and _Fernando_ , writhing under him, impaled on pleasure and pain. Fernando’s sweet mouth was parted in a soundless moan, begging Stevie’s name over and over again.

He was a picture of innocence violated – lying long and flat on the bed, his legs spread wide, a keening cry in the back of his throat as Stevie fucked him slowly, stretching him with measured strokes.

Stevie slid his right hand between Fernando’s legs to firmly grasp the other boy’s erection, hard and weeping in his palm. He pumped it with quick and fast, slowly rubbing his thumb in circles over the swollen head and Fernando lets out a strangled groan in response.

Stevie adjusted the angle of his thrusts and found Fernando’s prostate again. He pushed in to hit that sweet spot deeper, and the Spaniard’s entire body practically jolted.

“Fuck!” Fernando grunted – not fragile or torn, unlike before. But energised, driven. He pawed the sheets helplessly as Stevie jerked him off hard and swift in his fist, his hips rocking rhythmically to meet the Scouser’s downward strokes, and he was slowly losing control.

“Stevie!” Fernando gasped, almost sobbed, as he came first, spilling hot seed all over the Scouser’s palm in quick spurts. The muscles inside him tighten automatically around Stevie’s rod, driving him insane from the tight heat. He was like a mad dog as he pistoned in and out of Fernando in rapid succession, gnashing his teeth together painfully as he forced himself to keep up the pace. Thrust, out, slam forward, pull back, in, out, in, out and Fernando and _bloody hell_.

With a final thrust, Stevie let himself go. He pushed in deeper than he has before and he can barely register that drained cry spilling from Fernando’s lips. Stevie growled and he was coming. It was pure instinct the way he remembered to pull out of the Spaniard so the cameras could film him spurting out his spunk; if he had a choice, he was fucking that ass until he had gone soft and had nothing else left to give.

Stevie stroked his cock and he winced in pain at how hard it still was and he was milking himself for too long, and he just kept coming, Fernando’s ass, thighs, back covered in his semen.

The Scouser collapsed next to Fernando on the bed, thoroughly satiated. He can’t move. Another moment of stillness, this time sweaty and breathless and satisfied. He gazed down at Fernando – the boy’s eyes are closed, his hair almost dark brown as it was sweat-drenched, his cheeks flushed. He looked so beautiful. His chest heaved erratically and he made soft panting sounds from between his parted lips.

Stevie leaned forward to taste them, sliding his tongue effortlessly into Fernando’s mouth into a full, wet kiss. Fernando kissed him back, although Stevie could feel that he was exhausted. He broke apart from the liplock and asked, “Are you alright?”

Fernando still doesn’t open his eyes, but he nodded resolutely. His voice was raspy when he croaked out, “That was...”

Stevie chuckled weakly, leaning his head against Fernando’s so their foreheads touched. “That was...?”

Fernando’s eyes fluttered open just a crack and he smiled.

“And, cut!” Carra bellowed. “That’s a wrap!”


	6. Knocked for six

Everything else that night was a blur to Fernando.

He doesn’t remember who peels him off of Alvaro’s bed. But he vaguely remembers someone assisting him as he got cleaned up. By that, of course, he meant that he just stood there, eyes half closed and head lolling back on the tiled walls of the bathroom while someone – it must have been Dirk – towelled him off and helped him into his clothes.

Everyone else was moving too quickly for it to be 4 in the morning. Pepe and Alvaro were disassembling their cameras with military efficiency while Albert kept away the microphones and lights. Meanwhile, Fernando just sat on a desk chair, trying his darndest not to fall asleep while Carra talked to him about things like invoices and claiming his check in the office, and Fernando didn’t even know Blacklisted had an _accounting department_.

Not a few moments after, Stevie slumped into the seat next to him. His body was just as heavy and fatigued as Fernando, but in no way was he as stunned, dazed and despondent as the thoroughly ravished Spaniard. Fernando instinctively let his head drop on the Scouser’s shoulder, eyes drifting close, tuning out everyone else into a silent buzz of noise. Stevie ruffled his hair tiredly and asked how the boy was going to get home. Fernando must have forgotten – it was early hours and the trains were closed and night buses rarely frequented Alvaro’s area, but all he could be bothered to do was to grunt noncommittally.

Which was how Fernando found himself summoning the last of his energy to walk to Stevie’s SUV parked along the street of Alvaro’s house. He remembered mumbling out his address to Stevie, and he didn’t even know if the Scouser really knew where that was. Maybe Stevie had to check his GPS or ask a cop or the resident wino by the corner or a passerby, or maybe he just drove around in circles until he got lucky. But Fernando could not be bothered. The moment he got into the passenger seat and strapped on his seatbelt, he was dead asleep and snoring lightly.

*

“Is he dead?”

“Poke him again.”

“...See? Nothing.”

“Poke him harder! He can’t be dead, he’s breathing!”

Sergio angled his ear near Fernando’s nose, just to confirm that he was, in fact, breathing. There was a faint inhale and exhale of air, but it was still too weak for Sergio’s liking.

A loose strand of brown hair fell from Sergio’s loose ponytail, brushing against Fernando’s nostril. The blonde didn’t even flinch. He continued sleeping like a log.

“Fernando!” Gago called out loudly, impatiently, shaking the boy awake. Sergio watched anxiously. When his roommate hadn’t come out for breakfast, he assumed Fernando just had a late night and was sleeping in. But then, lunchtime came along and there was still no peep from Fernando’s room, even when Sergio had knocked on the door a couple of times. And Fernando never missed lunch, especially on weekends. Not with the football on the telly.

“Maybe he’d just spent all night playing Plants vs. Zombies or something.” Gago offered, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Fernando’s slumbering figure. “You know, he probaby had to unlock a secret level or something.” He said, shaking his hands in the air in mock amusement.

Sergio rubbed his chin, “No, I checked. His Playstation wasn’t even taken out of the cabinet.”

Gago rolled his eyes, “Well, I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”

But the Sevillan paid no heed, he perched himself on the edge of Fernando’s bed. He surveyed his flatmate again. Then, cautiously, he poked Fernando’s cheek.

No response.

He squeezed Fernando’s arm.

No response.

“What the fuck,” Sergio muttered. He slapped Fernando’s thigh in annoyance, his palm resounding loudly as it connected with Fernando’s skin.

And there – the first flash of a reaction in the older boy’s face. Discomfort. Pure discomfort. Fernando’s face scrunched up slightly, as he blindly tried to swat Sergio’s hand away.

Sergio immediately scooted higher up the bed. “Fernando?” He asked, cupping the Madridista by the cheek.

Gago crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s just go, Sergi,” he insisted. He was getting a little annoyed now. He’s never seen his boyfriend this concerned about that freckled, pale mutant friend of his.

“Just one second,” Sergio shushed, feeling unnaturally troubled over Fernando’s state. In the months they’ve been living together, he never had to look after the older boy. It was always the other way around: Fernando cleaning his room, Fernando doing the dishes, Fernando cooking instant chicken noodle soup when he got the flu. It was so unsettling that Sergio had to pitch in now. He didn’t even know where to start.

“Ugh.” 

The two bickering Spaniards froze and slowly turned towards the bed.

“Fuck,” Fernando moaned softly, shifting under the sheets. His arms were as heavy as lead as he tried to reach up and rub his eyes of sleep.

This did not feel like a hangover – his head was not pounding, his throat was not dry from retching.

But his memory was blank and his body was sore right down to the bones, so what the fuck happened?

“What the fuck happened?” demanded Sergio, always the brightest bulb in the room.

 _‘I don’t know’_ sounded like a pretty dumb answer, so Fernando didn’t bother to respond. He didn’t have the energy to think up of something more creative either. So, instead, he just tried to focus all his efforts on getting up.

Digging his elbows against the mattress, he hoisted himself up. 

“Agh!” Fernando groaned in surprise as his torso twinged painfully at the effort. Like he’d been doing a hundred crunches and couldn’t support his weight by his abdominal muscles anymore. And when he moved to a sitting position, his ass hurt _even more_ , and when he crossed his legs in front of him, his thighs shook weakly. Fernando let out an involuntary whimper.

“I think he has officially gone crazy,” Gago broke the silence, eyeing the blonde with suspicion.

“Are you on drugs?” Sergio asked.

Gago snorted. “Why would Fernando take drugs? Unless, he overdosed on cough medicine because he forgot to look at the back of the label and took too much,” he derided, like Fernando wasn’t right there next to them.

Fernando glared but didn’t dignify the comment. Instead, he turned to Sergio, who up to that point had been much, much less antagonistic towards Fernando than usual.

“Do we still have lunch?” Fernando asked Sergio shyly, quietly.

Gago laughed out loud sardonically, and it was like a wake-up call to the Sevillan. Sergio wrinkled his nose and stood up, all worry forgotten. “Find your own lunch,” he snapped and jumped up to his feet, “We ate already, since you were too busy being comatose.”

Fernando would feel hurt, offended, but he just didn’t have it in him today. Shaking his head in resignation, he just pushed back the covers and got to his feet as gingerly as possible, his entire body protesting with every movement.

“I’ll just take a shower,” he mumbled, and he didn’t know why because it would only trigger –

“Noted,” Sergio rolled his eyes. “Are we sharing our daily itinerary now?”

“Babe, can we please just get out of this room?” Gago deadpanned.

Fernando busied himself with rummaging for clean clothes inside his closet. Whatever it was he got up to last night, it didn’t matter one bit now. He was definitely back in the real world, whether he liked it or not.

*

By the time Xabi got to the office, he was in a foul, foul mood. All his good shirts hadn’t come back from the laundry, they had run out of breakfast at home, he had to stop by the petrol station to refill his tank right on the day that he was already running late, and traffic was so bad, the horn of his car was getting worn out from being blasted too often.

Needless to say, when Xabi stepped out of the lift and stomped to his office at Blacklisted, the staff immediately jumped out of his way. Well, technically, they jumped out of his way all the time anyway – but they were more sprightly today. The gleam in Xabi’s gaze was darker and the heavy furrow on his forehead was more prominent.

Mikel Arteta, however, had the unfortunate job of being Xabi’s assistant. Meaning he couldn’t keep out of Xabi’s way if he wanted to. That’s why Mikel was always the easiest target of the Basque’s wrath. It was just a good thing that most of the time, he took pleasure in it. Most of the time.

“Mikel!” Xabi yelled gruffly in greeting.

Miki had seen his boss stalking down the hallway metres away, but it still didn’t prepare him for when he actually arrived. He immediately pushed back his desk chair to stand up and greet Xabi, “Top of the morning, sir.”

“Shut up and give me my coffee,” Xabi shouted.

Miki flinched but his voice was calm when he answered back, “Already on your desk, sir.”

“Non-fat?” Xabi asked. “Latte?”

Miki nodded, “Yes, Xabi, as it is every day.”

Xabi sneered. “Well, take it back. I want it black today.”

Miki’s jaw dropped, “I-I’m sorry?”

Xabi stopped in his tracks and whirled around to face Mikel, glare absolutely thunderous and his jaw clenched tightly.

“I’m hearing this,” Xabi made a yapping movement with his hand, “When all I want to hear is this.” He gestured zipped lips.

Like a puppet, Mikel felt the need to purse his lips just as Xabi had just demonstrated. He just nodded and picked up the phone, calling the nearest Starbucks for Xabi’s coffee.

Xabi didn’t bother saying thank you. He just went back on his way to his office, threw open the door, then slammed it behind him after entering. He didn’t always try to be that mean to Mikel, but Jesus, sometimes the boy was just _asking_ for it.

Xabi tossed his bag on the floor, switched on his computer and dropped his files on the desk. It was only when everything was laid out in front of him that he let himself relax a little, sinking to his chair.

God, the incompetence of the people in this office drained all the energy out of him. And it was only the beginning of his work day. Joy.

First order of the day? Xabi picked up the phone from his office and started dialling an old, familiar number.

*

“5631 Lafferty Place. 5631 Lafferty Place,” Stevie chanted to himself so he didn’t forget the address of the building he was looking for. Once he got to the end of Chronicle St., he turned right, following the instructions he had hastily scrawled on a pad before leaving his apartment.

Stevie briefly took his eyes off the road as his mobile began ringing loudly. Making sure there was no heavy traffic in front of him, he fished his phone out of the car’s cupholder with much difficulty, manoeuvring in and out of the lanes as best he could with one free hand.

“A-ha!” Stevie yelled triumphantly as he extracted his mobile from the loose change and candy wrappers and crumpled tissue balls. He had fumbled for about a second too long – the car behind him was now honking its horn loudly. Stevie had to quickly put his phone on loud speaker, toss it on his dashboard, then get back to driving in a straight line.

“Hello?” He spoke loudly so he could be heard.

“What in bleeding hell took you so long to answer?!” The scathing reply came immediately.

“Xabi!” Stevie cried out in surprise, instinctively stepping on the break. It sent the car hurtling to an abrupt, painful stop. The car behind him beeped furiously again, and the motorist rolled down the window to shout long, angry curse words at him.

“I wanted to talk to you.” And before Stevie could even give the go-signal, Xabi was already railroading the conversation. 

“How was the shoot?”

“Actually, I –”

“Did it go well?”

“I think –”

“Cos I haven’t seen the raw footage yet, but Carra has been reporting to me.”

Stevie snapped his mouth shut, waiting for Xabi to finish. Naturally, though, the one time Xabi didn’t end with a question, that was when he snapped expectantly:

“Well? Tell me! Jesus, are you awake yet?”

“It was okay,” Stevie’s words tumbled into each other in his rush to get an answer out. “Same old, same old.”

“So, it’s boring porn.”

“No!”

“But, the porn was boring you.” Xabi pointed out.

“Well…”

“Because Carra said you couldn’t – how do I say this – _contain_ yourself.”

Stevie’s cheeks burned. “I had a bad day, okay! I was stressed and easily excitable.” When he heard Xabi cackle wickedly at the other end of the line, Stevie harrumphed. “Plus, I just got over a nasty bout of colds. I’m still trying to rebuild my endurance.”

Xabi burst out laughing again. “It had nothing to do with Fernando.”

“Fernando?”

“The big, blonde virgin you were shooting with?”

“Oh. Him. Nah.”

“He wasn’t any good?” Xabi prodded, still unconvinced.

“He was… okay,” Stevie drew out.

“Just okay?”

“He had potential,” the Scouser offered. He nimbly flicked on his car’s turn signals, then turned left into a small street of mid-rise apartment blocks.

“Help me out here, Stevie,” Xabi cooed, and Stevie didn’t know if his boss was just patronising him. “If you don’t think Fernando’s worth it, I’ll just have to weed him out while it’s early.”

Stevie’s chest tightened – Xabi wasn’t serious, right? This was just his cruel way of baiting Stevie to admit he had a thing for the new boy. He wouldn’t fire the poor thing just because.

But then again, this was Xabi Alonso and he’s gotten away with worse things.

Stevie gulped and tried to rectify the situation. “I’m sure Fernando will develop his natural talent soon enough.”

He could sense Xabi practically beaming smugly through the phone. “I don’t think I can afford to wait for that.”

“But… but you always said you needed bottoms,” Stevie looked for another loophole, “I mean, who do you have? _Lucas?_ He may have been with us for a couple of months already, but Fernando trumps him by face value alone.”

Xabi hummed as he thought it over. Stevie hated the sinking feeling in his stomach. Now, even if he was able to save Fernando, he just threw Lucas under the bus.

But, he didn’t really care about Lucas right now. Or ever.

“Well, if that’s how you feel then,” Xabi began, “I have a favour to ask of you.”

The Basque always had a strange definition of ‘favour.’ “What kind of favour?” Stevie asked nervously.

“Visit Fernando.”

“Excuse me?”

“Visit the boy.” Xabi repeated simply.

“What, today?” 

“Now, actually,” Xabi replied, his tone starting to get steely.

“But, why?” Stevie demanded, aghast.

“Stevie, you know how rough mornings-after are, especially when it’s your first time. Knowing Fernando, he’s already regretting he entered Blacklisted in the first place.”

“Our next projects aren’t scheduled until next month!” Stevie found himself whining already.

“Well, think of it as a month-long walk of shame for him” Xabi snapped back, starting to get impatient. “So, visit him now and you make sure he doesn’t quit!” He ordered.

Stevie sighed heavily. From the corner of his eye, he finally saw 5631 Lafferty Place. “Fine, I have to run errands today anyway,” he relented petulantly.

“Good. Do you know his address?”

Stevie snorted. “No.” He busied himself manoeuvring his car into a tight parking space by the sidewalk.

“Do you have a pen and paper right now? Take it down.”

Stevie rolled his eyes and fibbed. “Yeah, sure. Shoot.”

“Unit 319,” Xabi dictated.

“Unit 319,” Stevie repeated, pretending to be writing it down.

“Third floor.”

“Third floor.”

“5631 Lafferty Place.”

“5631 Lafferty Place.”

“Would you know where it is?” Xabi asked.

Stevie looked out his car window at the old apartment building, with its paint peeling down the sides. He shrugged, “I’ll ask around later, I guess.”

“Good.” Xabi said. Then, without a thank you or a goodbye, he hung up the phone. The busy tone abruptly started beeping loudly. Stevie grabbed his phone from the dashboard and ended the call too.

“Well,” Stevie spoke to himself as he removed his seat belt and unlocked his door. “Xabi’s orders.”

*

Sergio and Gago were cuddling on the couch when the doorbell rang.

“Honey, could you get that?” Sergio asked, turning up the volume of the TV. “That might be the pizza boy.”

Gago didn’t budge. “You get it. This is _your_ place.”

Sergio sighed loudly and brusquely removed himself from Gago’s embrace. “Fine,” he hissed, snatching the cash from the coffee table.

The Sevillan stomped down the hallway and threw open the door, snapping, “Took you long enough – ”

The visitor was tall and muscular; his sleeves strained against the biceps and triceps and whatceps of his arms. His cologne smelled expensive, and his Lacoste shirt was crisp and bright so it was surely the real thing. His sunglasses gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lighting – he didn’t take them off even if he was indoors already.

Maybe this wasn’t the pizza boy.

Stevie, on his part, didn’t move or speak either. As if he knew Sergio was assessing him, and he was waiting for him to finish.

Finally, Sergio croaked out. “Yes?”

“Is Fernando here?” Stevie asked.

Sergio blinked and it took him a while to respond. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure. Hold on.”

He closed the door partially as he turned toward the room, hollering, “Gago! Someone’s here to see you!”

Loud, lazy footsteps thumped along the corridor, “What do you mean someone’s here for me?” Gago demanded.

Sergio gestured towards the lad waiting outside.

“Who’s this?” Gago asked, but the petulant tone in his voice was gone now. Sergio could sense his boyfriend assessing the newcomer too.

The Scouser lowered his sunglasses and glanced at Gago. “You’re not Fernando.”

Gago leaned casually on the doorway, “Yeah, I am,” he purred.

Stevie laughed, taking off his shades and clipping it to the front of his shirt. Sergio just stared: he had grey eyes, squinty eyes, like he was angry all the time.

“Sorry, I meant Fernando, Fernando Torres? The blonde, freckly kid?”

The two long-haired Spaniards exchanged incredulous glances. Finally, Sergio glanced at the visitor again, forcing a loud, airy laugh.

“Oh, _that_ Nando! Of course! Why didn’t you say so?”

Stevie pursed his lips, not making an effort to pretend like he was finding any of this at all funny.

“Yeah. So, is he in?” He deadpanned.

Sergio volunteered, “I”ll call him, I think he’s still in the bath. What did you say your name was?”

The man clicked his tongue impatiently. “Tell him it’s Stevie.”

Sergio turned around and disappeared inside the apartment, and Stevie harrumphed heavily. He did not appreciate being made to wait outside.

“So...” Gago drew out the one-syllable word huskily. “Stevie, huh?”

The Scouser discreetly took a step back. “Uh-huh. And I assume you’re named Fernando too, then?”

Gago gave him his best, charming grin, “Yeah, but everyone calls me Gago.”

“Right. That’s good.” Stevie answered dully.

“I’ve never seen you around here before.”

“I just met Fernando yesterday.”

Gago raised an eyebrow. “And you’re visiting him at home already?”

Stevie’s jaw dropped a little. “It’s strictly a professional visit.”

Gago crossed his arms over his chest. His interest in Stevie was momentarily forgotten at the slightest hint of gossip. “So, you and Fernando…?”

Stevie thought long and hard about the appropriate answer. Most pornstars didn’t really come clean with their profession, not even to their closest friends. 

“We… work together.”

“Oh, really?” Gago asked, “Where?”

_Fuck, this man was annoying._

“Maybe I’ll just come back later.” Stevie said, pissed off.

“No!” Gago exclaimed. He grabbed Stevie by the wrist and tugged him inside, “Come in, come in. This sounds… _interesting_.”

Gago pulled him all the way into the living room and practically shoved him into a chair. Stevie tugged his arm away irately. He liked his personal bubble, thanks very much.

“Fernando’s still in the shower,” Sergio announce, jutting his thumb toward a closed door at the end of a very short hallway. “Do you mind waiting a couple of minutes?”

Gago pounced on the invitation, even without Stevie’s response, “Yeah, what were we just talking about?” The seduction in his gaze was replaced by mischief. He snapped his fingers, “Oh, you were just saying that you and Fernando worked together!”

Sergio flopped down on the chair opposite the Scouser, “No shit, you work in Burger King too?”

Gago groaned. “Great. I was trying to fish it out of him, Sergio.”

“Fish what?” The Sevillan asked dumbly.

Gago rolled his eyes, his plot all but unravelled. “Never mind.”

But Stevie just nodded confidently now, “Yeah, Burger King. Why not?”

“You don’t look like you need to work as a burger-flipper.” Gago pointed out.

Sergio’s eyes widened, getting his boyfriend’s drift. He motioned at the D&G shades clipped in front of Stevie’s shirt. “That would easily be two months’ wages in a fast food joint. And we live in London – the sun barely even comes out here.”

“It was a gift,” Stevie fibbed easily, but these two looked like a tough audience.

“Huh. Okay.”

“From my Pops.”

“So, you’re not rich, but your parents are?”

“They let you work blue-collar jobs?”

Stevie leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “They said I should learn middle-class values.”

Gago raised his arms and gestured all around him. “Welcome, then. This is where the middle-class live.”

“Duly noted,” Stevie smirked.

A loud, horrified gasp interrupted them all. Three heads snapped around, and Fernando was standing there in the hallway in his towel, finished with his bath and halfway to his room to get changed. Until he saw Stevie.

Stevie the Porn Star in his house with his roommate who didn’t know he was also a porn star.

“Stevie!” Fernando gasped again, his face contorted in fear and panic.

“Fernando!” Stevie exclaimed in relief, getting to his feet.

“Everyone!” Gago said brightly, clapping his hands in delight.

“Why are you – “ Fernando was stammering.

“Work!” Stevie cut him off. “I’m here because of work.”

Fernando went pale.

Stevie added, widening his eyes at the boy meaningfully. “Because we work together in Burger King, remember?”

Fernando shook his head to get some sense into him – his mind had momentarily stopped there. “Yeah. Yeah. Burger King. Of course.” He mumbled belatedly.

“Why don’t you come and sit with us?” Sergio asked. His eyes visibly raked over Fernando’s bare chest.

“Sese,” Gago warned. “At least let Fernando get dressed first.”

“No, I’m sure he’s fine the way he is. It’s a pretty warm day today, no?”

“Sergio!” Gago scolded. He did not like the Sevillan’s comments, in the same way Stevie found himself disliking the way Fernando was blushing like a schoolgirl.

“Actually, why don’t I just make sure that Fernando gets changed into something more decent, while you two...” Stevie abandoned all attempts at completing the sentence, as he used the precious window of Sergio and Gago’s bickering to escape from their grasp. He jumped to his feet and bundled Fernando into the Spaniard’s room.

“Hey, where are you two going?” Sergio whined.

“Later!” Stevie slammed the door shut behind him then locked it resoundingly.

*

“Hey.” Stevie began, but Fernando persistently moved away, stalking over to his dresser to make sure there was enough distance between them.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Fernando demanded, grabbing the comb and roughly running it through his wet, knotted hair. Tiny droplets of water flew everywhere.

“Xabi asked me to check up on you.” Stevie said, casually leaning against the door and waiting for Fernando to relax.

Fernando snorted loudly, mocking, “As if he gave a damn.” He tossed his comb back on the dresser and it clattered noisily against the wooden surface and the bottles of perfume lined up on it.

“He probably doesn’t,” Stevie admitted with no hint of embarrassment. “I think he just wants to make sure you didn’t quit after last night.”

Fernando sighed, and he suddenly looked pale and weary. He removed his towel and hung it on his desk chair. Sluggishly, he climbed onto bed, still wet and naked from his bath. He wrapped his comforter around him. “What did happen last night?”

Stevie smirked as he answered plainly. “We had sex.”

Fernando had to smile weakly. “Yeah. But after?”

The Scouser’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Well, you had no ride so you hitched with me home.”

Fernando chewed on his lip nervously, “But nothing happened or anything, right...?”

Realisation dawned on Stevie, and he shook his head resolutely. “Nothing. Even if we wanted too, we were absolutely knackered.”

“Oh, okay.” Fernando said, relieved. His expression brightened just a bit. “Cos I woke up and I couldn’t even remember how I got back here. I don’t think my brain could handle everything that happened last night, so it just forgot it all.”

Stevie laughed. “Well, don’t worry. I just dropped you off here.”

“Great.”

“I didn’t know you liked to sleep in the nude, though.”

Fernando’s face burned a bright, bright red. “W-what?” He asked with feigned ignorance, but his tone was shaky and he was already beginning to hide behind his pillow ashamedly.

“The moment you stumbled into your room, you just started throwing your clothes off before climbing into bed.”

“No, oh, god, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise!” Stevie pushed off the door and walked closer to the bed. “It really was quite a show.”

Fernando whimpered and he pulled the comforter over his head. Stevie laughed and perched beside him. “How are you feeling, though?”

“I dunno.” There was a long, heavy sigh underneath the sheets. “Mostly just... sore, I guess.”

Stevie couldn’t stifle his loud, arrogant chortle fast enough.

“Stevie!” Fernando scolded, a hint of humiliation in his tone.

“What? I can’t help it if I’m big.”

Fernando elbowed him. “You weren’t big. I was just a beginner.”

“Uh-huh?” Stevie yanked down Fernando’s comforter so he could look the boy in the eye.

“Uh-huh,” Fernando answered back as levelly as he could.

The Scouser stared at him intensely, as if daring Fernando to mock him and his endowment again. The Spaniard tried to keep his composure, but the harder Stevie glared at him, the more he wavered. Finally, Fernando flinched and looked away, chuckling shyly, cheeks growing even redder.

“Now come on, let me see the state of you,” Stevie said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

Fernando sighed and tugged down the comforter to his waist. He pointed to a hickey on his neck.

“This was during foreplay.”

“Yeah, I remember that.”

“And this” – the Spaniard pointed to his reddish nipple – “I don’t know if this was you or me...”

“...Probably you, I remember you touching yourself.” Stevie mused, rubbing his chin.

“Maybe. But this,” Fernando pointed to a nasty purple gash on his hip, “This is all you.”

Stevie’s forehead wrinkled, “How the fuck did I make that?” He asked incredulously, staring at the mark.

Fernando tilted his head to the side to visualise it, “I don’t know, really. Maybe you were behind me?” The bruise did look like a funny shape.

“Or maybe I was on top of you, facing the other way?”

“Maybe, maybe. Good call.”

"Yeah.” Stevie nodded slowly, “Maybe. Sorry, I get rough sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Last night you were like a fucking animal.” Fernando muttered.

Stevie laughed, absentmindedly tracing the bruise on Fernando’s hip. Fernando giggled with him.

“How long are you staying here for?” The Spaniard asked, yawning as he slumped back against his headboard. “I was thinking of catching a nap.” The fatigue and the pain started creeping into his bones and his muscles again.

Stevie checked his watch. “For a couple more minutes, probably. I don’t want Xabi to thinking I flaked on his assignment.”

Fernando smiled tiredly. He stretched like a cat in his sheets. “So, the fear of Xabi doesn’t decrease over time?”

Stevie shook his head vigorously. “Hell, no.”

Fernando plumped the pillows under his head, then sleepily lay back down. “I support anyone who’s trying to escape Xabi’s wrath.”

“Sorry, I’ll only stay for another, let’s say, 15 to 30 minutes.”

“Go ahead, it’s no big deal,” Fernando waved. Stevie pulled the desk chair over so he could sit down by the boy’s bed.

“I just hope you don’t mind if I...” Fernando trailed off into a yawn again.

“Get some rest. I’ll just let myself out later.” Stevie assured, and the other boy’s eyes were already drooping heavily. “Mmkay,” Fernando purred, nuzzling into his pillows.

Stevie leaned over and ruffled Fernando’s hair. Fernando dozed on peacefully.

*

“Blacklisted Studios?” Mikel greeted automatically as he picked up the office phone.

“Mikel!” Xabi barked down the line. “What’s my noon schedule?!”

Mikel jumped in his seat. He quickly took out Xabi’s appointment planner and frantically flipped through the pages.

“Uh...” Mikel stammered as he tried to find today’s page.

“It’s a bloody simple question, Mikel.” Xabi was already seething impatiently.

“You have... a... a...” Mikel ran his finger down the sheet, trying to understand his notes. Finally, he found the line he was looking for: today, 12 noon. “You have, uh, nothing.”

“WHAT?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing planned.” Mikel hastily explained, obviously stunned himself.

“What do you mean I have nothing planned? I have no meetings for this lunch time?” Xabi was yelling again, Mikel didn’t even need the phone because he could hear him from inside his office.

“There’s nothing,” Mikel replied again, trying to sound certain. But he continued to rack his brain for something, anything – an appointment he may have missed or an email he didn’t read. Xabi’s never had a free lunch break in a long time.

“Where’s Carra then?” Xabi demanded.

Mikel sat straight at his chair, suddenly feeling as if he were in the middle of a pop quiz. “Carra’s in the production house. He’s going through the raw material of Stevie and Fernando’s shoot,” he reported.

“Fucking hell,” the boss cursed. “And Sami?”

“Sami’s on leave, sir.”

“On leave!” Xabi exclaimed incredulously. “That right fucking lazy bastard! And Stevie?”

“You asked Stevie to visit Fernando this morning.”

Xabi scoffed. “I asked him to check in on the boy, not hold a fucking vigil by his bedside. Don’t tell me he’s still there!”

“I’ll get in touch with him, then update you as soon as possible.” Mikel offered dutifully, but Xabi just hissed. “Nevermind.” Then he slammed the phone down.

Xabi stood up from his chair and his legs cracked hollowly from sitting for too long. He paced the room uneasily – he wasn’t used to suddenly having an hour of free time. He stomped out and threw open the door to scream at Mikel.

“Do we have a cafeteria in this building?!”

His secretary almost dropped the stapler he was holding. “W-what?”

“A _cafeteria_ , Mikel,” Xabi dictated slowly, as if he were talking to someone retarded. “Or a canteen. Whatever. Wherever people eat here in this building.”

Mikel grimaced at his superior’s words. “There’s a canteen in the second floor,” he answered carefully, afraid that one wrong word might spark another outburst.

Xabi huffed and ran his hand through his hair. Mikel had to stare – terror boss or not, Xabi still had this roguish charm, with his pale skin and strong jaw and maybe he couldn’t be arsed the shave this morning, but Mikel could already see the beginnings of stubble.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just get a sandwich in the canteen,” Xabi was saying. He shuddered, disgusted at the idea.

Mikel tried to explain, “To be fair, the canteen isn’t so bad. It’s just a bit crowded around this hour. But I’m sure it’ll be much better than you’re visualising.”

Xabi’s glare quickly silenced Mikel. Mikel quickly averted his gaze to the files he was arranging. He waited silently for Xabi to return to his office, but instead, the footsteps drew nearer.

“Say, it’s your lunch break too, right?” Xabi leaned casually on Mikel’s desk.

Mikel slowly looked up, answering shyly, “Yes. Why?”

Xabi propped his chin on his hand and sighed heavily. “I guess you can join me for lunch. If you must.”

The smile instantly died on Mikel’s face and his expression darkened.

“No, thank you. I have other plans.”

“Oh, really.” Xabi smirked, patronising.

“Yeah.” Mikel smiled with forced deference. “So, my apologies, _sir_ , but it looks like you’ll have to take your lunch alone.”

Xabi rolled his eyes. “Have it your way. Be back by 1 o’clock sharp, Arteta.” With that, he pushed off of Mikel’s desk and left.

Mikel scowled – he was at the office prompt and early at 8 in the morning every day; he did not refuse overtime work; he lets (offers?) his boss shag him, and Xabi wasn’t even letting him extend his lunch break? He was even willing to bet that if he had just agreed to grab lunch with Xabi, they wouldn’t be back in the office until 3 PM. The boss did like his round of afternoon delight.

Xabi was pondering the health risks of cafeteria food when the lift arrived. The elevator was packed, as expected. Xabi waited by the side as people got off. Until, he saw someone he thought he recognised –

“Oy, Xabi!”

Xabi squinted through the throng of visitors. “Mikel?”

“Yeah!” Mikel Alonso grinned widely as he wrestled his way through the crowd to approach his brother.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your older brother?” Mikel grinned sweetly, while Xabi made a face. Obviously, there was no love lost between these two.

“You’ve never visited me at work before.”

“I’m not visiting you today either,” Mikel pointed out. “I’m getting lunch with Miki.”

Xabi spat. “Miki? Who the fuck is Miki? – No shit, wait, Mikel Arteta? You’re seeing my _executive assistant_?!” He demanded. The people milling around them stared curiously.

Mikel shrugged it off like it was nothing out of the ordinary, which technically, it was. “Yeah. I just said I made too much beef casserole, and I could share some with him during his break, and he said yes.” Mikel winked at Xabi, “Apparently, Miki loves a man who can cook.”

Xabi stamped his foot. He yelled accusingly. “You don’t cook!” His voice was pitchy and he bordered on whining as he continued, “You don’t even know how to make eggs! Our maid served that beef casserole for dinner last night!”

Mikel sighed in exasperation. “Okay, so I found it in the refrigerator this morning. It’s not like you ever eat leftovers.”

“You!” Xabi groaned angrily. “You’re such a... a...”

“Is everything okay?” Mikel Arteta greeted as he came up from behind Xabi. The Alonso brothers immediately swivelled around to face him.

“Hey, there,” Mikel cooed, opening his arms. Miki excitedly bounded into the embrace and hugged back. Xabi crossed his arms over his chest and kept his face blank.

“I just bumped into my little brother over here,” Mikel continued as Miki broke away. Arteta just gave Xabi a passing glance and didn’t dignify his presence.

“Ooh, is this the beef casserole you were talking about?” Miki grinned as he peered into the brown paper bag in Mikel’s hands.

“Yeah, but don’t expect anything fancy, okay?” Mikel asked. “It’s just something I whipped up myself.”

Xabi gagged. Miki threw him a dirty look and announced, “I love a man who knows how to cook.”

Mikel saw Xabi’s jaw drop, and as his younger brother prepared to protest, he cut him off.

“Oh, hey, look at the time!” Mikel grabbed Miki by the elbow and started ushering him to the lifts, “We’d best be going.”

“Return Arteta by 1 PM! And not a minute later!” Xabi hollered after them.

“We’ll save you some casserole, Xabier!” Mikel yelled back, a smug grin on his obviously less attractive face.

Xabi harrumphed and watched the pair enter the elevator. He wasn’t in the mood to be in the same enclosed space as the two and listen to them rave about Mikel’s culinary masterpiece. The other passengers of the lift watched him expectantly, waiting for him to board. Xabi waved them off, suddenly losing his appetite – maybe he’ll just have a working lunch today.


	7. I love your dirty mind, I'm always on it

The truth was: Fernando was no longer a virgin. Over the weekend, he had handed over that virtue to a porn star and a roll of celluloid.

And it was like a switch had flicked on inside him. He felt like he was walking around with a sign that blinked, "Sexually active!"

Active sexually.

Sexual.

Sex.

His mind immediately flashed back to Stevie thrusting violently on top of him, and that sickly sound it made when his hips slapped against Fernando's butt. That sound of wet, sweaty skin smacking together.

Mmm.

Fernando had spent the entire weekend holed up in his apartment, playing video games and eating fast food. It was a futile attempt to ignore - better yet, forget - his recent... _activities_.

But Monday had come along and he had classes to attend. And suddenly, he was in the real world again, living his ordinary life, trying to hide an extraordinary secret.

It was the little things that got to him.

Like, riding on the train and seeing the guy in front of him sneak a kiss on his girlfriend's neck. Fernando imagines the sensation, and he can almost feel the harsh stubble and accented words being breathed against his nape.

Or, entering the cafeteria and seeing Gago press up against Sergio as they waited in line. It's the first time that Fernando could say that he knew how that felt. When Stevie spooned up against him and his erection poked through even the thick material of his jeans - there was something unnervingly sensual about it. There was something unnervingly sensual knowing Stevie was hard _because of him_.

Fernando shook his head violently, trying to get the thoughts out of his mind. Today, he was supposed to be thinking about Biology. His professor droned on in front of the classroom, flashing a slide about human anatomy.

Hmm. Human anatomy.

_Shit._ Fernando cursed inwardly. He was so easy.

He discreetly checked his crotch under the desk. A small bulge had started to form, and if he didn't hide it quickly, his loose denim jeans would hang like a tent.

He placed his textbook on his lap and slid his hand under it, trying to adjust his erection in his briefs. But the more he touched it, the more his hard-on raged and demanded for even more pressure.

"Jesus Christ," Fernando muttered, feeling a fresh sheen of sweat break out over his face.

"Are you okay?" His lab partner, Olalla, nudged him.

Fernando nodded wordlessly, his throat had gone dry and scratchy.

"I-I'll just head to the restroom." He coughed, sliding out of his chair as quickly as possible, awkwardly resting his hands over his front to hide his bulge.

There was a bathroom in the Biology wing, but it was always busy. It took an uncomfortable ten-minute walk and a flight of stairs, but Fernando was sure the restroom in the Chemistry building would be much more private.

The Spaniard whimpered as he pushed open the heavy, swinging door. Thankfully, no one was inside. He wasn't even inside the cubicle and he was already undoing his trousers and taking out his half-swollen cock.

This was starting to become a common occurrence. He'd lost count of how many times he had jacked off during the weekend, he even had to sneak in Sergio's room and get a dollop of lotion to soothe his member.

Once the cubicle was locked behind him, Fernando just grabbed his dick. With both hands. Like he was holding on for dear life. He held it with a vise-like grip and stroked his hands down his member, twisting in opposite directions.

"Mmm." He groaned to himself. He kept stroking down on his cock with such determination, his wrists began to ache.

But that wasn't enough. Not now. Not anymore. It was tight, but it wasn't...

Wet. Like during sex.

Fernando ran through the contents of his bag in his mind. Nothing could double as lube there.

He cracked open the cubicle door a little to peak outside and scan the counters. Fat chance - there wasn't even toilet paper in the restrooms, what more lubrication?

"Back to basics, then," Fernando muttered to himself. He glanced at his open palms. He's never done this before, and he wasn't even sure if this was sanitary. But the cowboys on Brokeback Mountain did it. Brokeback Mountain would never lie to him.

He let saliva pool under his tongue, and when it got viscous enough, he spat it onto his right hand. Then, his left.

When he grabbed his flagging erection again, his touch was slick and heated.

"Oh, yes," Fernando hummed to himself as he continued masturbating.

He tried to zero in on a particular memory, a particular position, a particular sex act that he had done with Stevie. But he couldn't focus - all the images were flooding his mind, and all he could hold on to was the general feeling of it all. The feeling of being stretched out on a bed and spread open obscenely like he had seen in movies. His toes were curled so far forward, he thought they could snap off. Fernando continued pumping his length with increasing speed.

"Fuck!" The Spaniard let out a strangled moan. He came weakly in his hands, small splatters of come dotting his palms. It wasn't mind-blowing. But it would have to do for now.

*

It was a perfectly sunny Monday morning, and it was no time to be cooped up in a meeting room. Xabi, however, did not care for these things. Today, they were going through the storyboards for a new film, and that was that.

Christian Poulsen, Blacklisted's head writer, was presenting. "So, our first idea is to basically have a schoolboy - "

"Boring. Next." Xabi barked.

The Dane stopped short and reluctantly put down his storyboard. He looked fairly attached to it. He tried again, "But there's a twist to it."

Xabi stopped picking at his nails and looked up. "Then present the twist first," he ordered sarcastically. "Because you know, when you said the word 'schoolboy,' I was literally on the edge of my seat."

The rest of the meeting room snorted into their notes.

Christian stammered, "Well, there's another schoolboy..."

"Oh, so there are two schoolboys." Xabi clapped his hands in glee. "Joy."

Miki concentrated on taking down the minutes of the meeting. Poor Christian - he was always a better writer than a presenter. He didn't know why Xabi insisted on making the blonde pitch ideas in front of the group.

Oh, wait. Of course he knew why.

Xabi liked eating up people's dreams and ambitions before breakfast.

"Yes, exactly." Christian nodded eagerly, "There are two schoolboys, and a professor who takes advantage of them and makes them sleep with each other."

"No," Xabi slaps his notebook on the table. "No, no. Been there, done that, made the sequel."

Stevie doodled circles on his paper. He was bored out of his mind - Christian was awfully slow. He talked slow, he gestured his hands slow, he even took the storyboards out of his bag slow. The most interesting thing about the Dane was how the fluorescent lighting bounced off his angular, Scandinavian cheekbones.

"Okay, let me just get my second storyboard." Christian said, shuffling to his bag, taking very sluggish steps.

Stevie sighed. Thankfully, his phone vibrated in his pocket, giving him a distraction.

_Is it really supposed to feel like this?  
Sender: Fernando Torres, 9:14 PM_

Stevie's eyebrows furrowed. He texted back -

_Feel like what?_

He leaned back on his seat and reread the Fernando's message to see if it would make sense the second time around. The boy had been texting him occasionally as Stevie tried to help him out with his new life as a porn star.

His phone beeped again.

_It's like I'm so horny all the time.  
Sender: Fernando Torres, 9:16 PM_

Stevie choked on his spit. Xabi spun around to glare at him for interrupting the meeting.

"Sorry," the Scouser wheezed, reaching for his glass of water to clear his throat. When he was sure no one was paying attention to him anymore, Stevie checked his phone again. All he could read was "Fernando" and "horny."

Stevie's fingers trembled as he texted back, typing and rewriting as he sought for the best response.

"Yeah, it's always like that - "

"Yeah, that's normal. What are you - "

"What do you mean you're horny - "

"Horny, how?"

"Are you touching yourse - "

Stevie put down his phone and covered it with his notebook. Maybe he should give himself a moment to calm down and think this through before replying.

"Stevie?"

The Scouser looked up slowly. He knew that cold, steely tone from anywhere.

"Yes?" He squeaked nervously.

Xabi's eyebrow was raised in a perfect arch. "Would you like to comment on the idea Christian just pitched?"

Stevie stammered, "Uh, well. It sounded... great."

"Really, now? Which part?"

Stevie tried to laugh it off, but everyone in the room just stared at him blankly. 

"I... I liked everything?"

Then, Stevie's phone started ringing. From under his notebook. Making the sound warped and concentrated.

For a split-second, he was grateful for the diversion, but he realised his ringtone was blaring in the middle of a deathly quiet meeting.

"I wanna see you move, move, shake, shake, now drop! What your daddy said?"

Carra didn't look impressed. Christian just blinked in confusion. Mikel was biting back his laughter, that smug little bitch. And Xabi - his face was murderous.

Before the boss could even open his mouth and scream at Stevie, the Scouser already jumped to his feet.

"I have to take this call!" He said, waving his mobile in the air, as if to present evidence.

"Steven Gerrard!" Xabi bellowed, but Stevie was already scampering out the door.

Once outside, the Scouser looked for a quiet spot by the lobby, far from the meeting room so no one could hear him.

His phone rang persistently. Stevie checked the screen. Fernando.

"Hello?" Stevie hissed as he answered the call. "Why are you calling? You are getting me in a shitload of trouble right now."

"Stevie..." Fernando moaned, as if pained. Or aroused.

"Why are you calling?" Stevie asked again, but his tone faltered now.

"I'm so..." A whimper finished the sentence.

"Where are you? What are you doing?" Stevie had meant it to sound authoritative, demanding. But it only ended up sounding intrigued.

"I'm in school. In the restrooms."

"Are you...?"

"I did."

"You're done?"

A small snicker. "I can do it again." And Stevie didn't know Fernando could talk like that. His groin started stirring.

"What time are you off from school?"

"Three."

"I have a meeting at three."

"I have a lunch break at 11."

Stevie checked his watch. "I'll see you there."

"Wait - see me where?"

Stevie gritted his teeth. "I'll fetch you in school. We don't have to go very far."

Fernando breathed out nervously. "Okay."

Stevie ended the call and pocketed his phone. "Bloody hell," he cursed to himself, as he paced the lobby, trying to calm down his body. He should set rules with that boy. Fernando shouldn't be allowed to call him at odd hours of the day, panting over the phone.

He turned on his heel to pace again, only to be met by the face of his boss.

"Shit! Xabi!" Stevie exclaimed, jumping back a full metre in shock. "Is the presentation finished already?"

Xabi shook his head. "No. I just wanted to see what was bothering you. You looked fairly preoccupied during our meeting."

Stevie smiled innocently. "Oh, it was nothing. I just had to take a quick call."

"I heard. Someone you're fetching in school?"

Stevie forced a laugh, but his palms started to sweat. Just how long had Xabi been standing there, listening to him?

"Yeah. My niece." Stevie kept a straight face. "I have to fetch my niece."

"I didn't know you had a niece."

"I do, actually. From my cousin. Named Bob." Stevie chuckled nervously, "It's my cousin whose name is Bob. Not my niece, of course."

Xabi's expression was unreadable. "Brilliant. Well, if you're done running errands for your cousin _Bob_ , can you return to the meeting now?"

Stevie nodded, "Of course. I'm right behind you."

*

"He's meeting up with Fernando." Xabi deduced loudly as he burst into his office.

Mikel jumped to attention, nearly spilling the coffee he was pouring into Xabi's mug.

"Excuse me?" He asked politely.

Xabi glared at Mikel, "What are you doing in my room?"

Mikel stammered, "Uh, you asked me for a refill - "

"Stevie! He's off to see the that boy!" Xabi exclaimed again, throwing his hands up in the air.

Mikel shifted his weight. "But, Stevie always has a little som'thin' som'thin' on the side."

Xabi's face was stony. "This is different."

Mikel didn't understand what that meant, but he tried to guess. "Maybe? I mean, Fernando _is_ very good-looking."

Xabi's head whipped to the side. He bellowed at Mikel. "What did you say?!"

The assistant flinched at the volume of Xabi's words. "Nothing."

"You think he's good-looking." The boss accused.

Mikel didn't even know what the right answers were anymore, "Only because you would never choose anyone ugly for Blacklisted!" He added another qualification, just to be safe, "And I was speaking objectively, of course. It's not like he's my type or anything." 

Xabi huffed, but he seemed partially satisfied by that. He went to his desk and cupped the mug of coffee in his hands.

Mikel stared sympathetically at the Basque. He knew nothing serious was going on between Xabi and Stevie. As the boss and the biggest star at Blacklisted, it was inevitable that they would eventually fuck each other. But frankly, Xabi and Stevie were both too horny to be tied down, not even to each other.

But that didn't mean Xabi didn't get jealous when the Scouser went out with other boys. In the same way that Xabi despised it that Mikel was going out with his brother - when at any other time in the past, Xabi would just ignore his assistant's affections.

Xabi just liked being number one, even in competitions that, in the end, were irrelevant to him.

Mikel offered, "You know it won't work out between them. Fernando's a hapless prude. He won't be able to handle Stevie's sexual appetite."

Xabi shook his head, "Fernando _was_ a hapless prude. But the virginal walls of his sex dam have burst open. Like a hymen." 

Mikel burst out laughing. Xabi cracked a small, reluctant smile, and Mikel instantly felt better.

"Maybe Fernando won't go for Stevie. New boys are always still naive and romantic about these things. Stevie won't be arsed to deal with that."

Xabi shook his head adamantly. "No. It will be Stevie." He beckoned Mikel over with his finger, as if to tell him a secret. His assistant obediently sat down in the chair in front of Xabi's desk. "The simple truth about sex is that you'll never forget your first. Whether it's your boyfriend or the girl next door or a stranger at a pub or the porn star who devirginised you on camera - you'll always be attached to them."

Mikel mumbled, "Yeah. My first was a bloody horrible fuck, but I've never forgotten it."

"Exactly - what more if it was good, right? And in all fairness, you have to admit that Stevie is _good_." Xabi smiled wolfishly.

Mikel rolled his eyes but didn't disagree. "I'll go ahead," he said, taking up the used coffee pot, "You stop worrying about Stevie and Fernando. I don't like it when you stress yourself out over small things."

Xabi stopped. Stared at Mikel strangely.

"What?" Mikel suddenly became self-conscious.

Xabi stood up and swiftly intercepted Mikel as he walked to the door.

"Xabi, what - "

"You want to know another thing about sex?" Xabi began, tilting his head lower so he could look straight into Mikel's eyes. "You never forget the first person who tops you."

Mikel averted his gaze, becoming even more hyper-aware by the second. "Yeah, I know, I know. Stevie topped Fernando in the shoot - "

"And once you're someone's bitch, you'll always be his bitch," Xabi summarised neatly. A sinister grin spread on his handsome face, "Am I right, or have you forgotten me already?"

Mikel was at a loss for words. He took a step back to get away from Xabi, but Xabi reached around his waist and kept him in place by grabbing handfuls of his ass. He fondled the cheeks with sharp fingers.

Mikel gasped, torn between pulling away and arching forward. And in that split-second that he had to decide, his thoughts wandered off instead: He was immediately transported to this very office, three years ago.

"Executive assistant," the classified ads had read. It sounded like such an unassuming, respectable position. Mikel hadn't finished college, so he figured he'd try his luck in an entry-lvel administrative position in a little-known company called Blacklisted Studios.

He finished the initial screening - basically, all he had to prove was that he could read, write and operate a computer. Then, the next thing he knew, Xabi had handpicked him from a group of five, brought him into the office and locked the door. Xabi made him strip down, naked as the day he was born, spread out over that infamous black, leather casting couch where many an aspiring porn star had been initiated into Blacklisted.

He took a cock up his ass for the first time. And he hasn't gotten over Xabi since then.

A soft kiss to his cheek lifted the fog from Mikel's mind. It was Xabi, and he was already turning Mikel's face to the side so he could kiss the other cheek. The younger boy whimpered in anticipation.

"Kiss me," Mikel breathed, always the more eager one. He tilted his chin up and pursed his lips.

Xabi kept a safe distance. He countered, "Stop seeing my brother."

That must have knocked some sense into Mikel, because his eyelids fluttered open. "Excuse me?"

Xabi combed his hands through Mikel's hair. "You heard me. Stop seeing my brother."

"What happens if I do what you say?"

Xabi smiled. He cupped Mikel's chin and kissed him deeply. And even when Xabi pulled away, it took Mikel a couple of seconds to get back to his senses. His eyelids fluttered open.

"You wanted a kiss, right?" Xabi breathed.

Mikel nodded slowly, still licking his lips, savouring the taste.

"And what happens if I don't stop seeing Mikel?"

Xabi froze. He didn't expect that question. His assistant stared at him expectantly, his words half-challenging, half-genuinely curious.

Xabi didn't answer. He just took a step away, crossed his arms over his chest, his face grim and stony.

After a long, empty silence, Mikel shrugged. He picked up the coffee pot again. "Your brother can kiss me too."

*

"Hey, is that Fernando?" Sergio asked.

Gago put up his shades so he could see more clearly. On the other end of the school lawn, a familiar tall, slumped figure speed-walked through the groups of people coming out for lunch.

"Yeah, I guess so," Gago shrugged indifferently. He went back to reading his notebook.

"I wonder where he's going." Sergio mused out loud. "Where do you think he's going?"

"Sergio, please," Gago said. "I'm trying to cram for my exam later, okay?"

The Sevillan paid no heed. "He never eats out here in the courtyard."

"Yeah, cos he doesn't have friends," Gago grumbled, plugging his ears.

Sergio gasped loudly. "Wait a minute, he's heading out to the parking lot!"

"Please stop stalking Fernando."

"But he's been acting strangely all week. And don't you remember that rich, flashy guy that visited him in our flat?" Sergio stopped, then gasped. He started bouncing on his chair, clapping his hands until he got Gago's attention. "Omigod, what if Fernando is a prostitute? I bet he's sneaking out for some mid-day business right now!"

Gago looked up from his notebook very slowly. His eyes were hard and glaring, but his tone was controlled. "Why would Fernando be a prostitute?"

Sergio shrugged. "He can't barely pay his rent."

"Would you pay good money to sleep with that dork?" Gago asked pointedly.

Sergio's eyes were shifty. "Well, _I_ don't have to, since he throws himself at me." He snorted, "I bet if I asked, he would bend over and beg me to take his ass." He played with the straw of his milk carton, pausing thoughtfully. "Except he wouldn't because he's an uptight little prude."

Gago threw his hands up in the air. "There you go, you just shot your own argument in the foot."

"Dammit."

Gago sighed in boredom. "He's probably just rushing home because he forgot to save his PlayStation game, or something."

Meanwhile, as Sergio and Gago resumed with their lunch, Fernando scampered out of the bounds of the campus and into the parking lot. His last class extended, so he was running late.

Fernando didn't really know how this was going to pan out. They hadn't laid out comprehensive plans. Their conversation had been short. Sexually-loaded, yes, but short. All they had agreed on was that Fernando was horny and Stevie was gladly lending a hand.

It wasn't that difficult to find Stevie. His black Range Rover stood out among the second-hand Toyotas and Hondas in the student parking lot. Fernando rounded the car's wide bumper and found Stevie, leaning by the side of his vehicle.

"Hey," Fernando greeted weakly. He felt weak all over, actually. His knees were shaky, his palms were sweating, his body felt cold all over.

But Stevie's face just broke into a wide grin. "Come here," he said in a low drawl.

Fernando took tentative steps closer to the Scouser, and as soon as he was near enough, Stevie tugged him forward roughly. He gripped Fernando by the hips and kissed him.

The Spaniard squirmed away, laughing shyly, "Stevie, there are people around."

Stevie nodded, "Well, come on then, let's go somewhere private." He took out his car keys.

Fernando let his fingers run over the sleek exterior of the SUV. "You could have been a little more discreet, no?"

Stevie smiled. "Sorry, babe. Couldn't help it. You look gorgeous today." He sneaked another kiss on Fernando's neck.

The younger boy had to giggle at the sensation. "I was talking about the Range Rover actually, but I'll take what you said."

Once they were on the road, Fernando asked, "Where are we going?"

Stevie kept his eyes on the road, "My flat is just fifteen minutes away from your school."

Fernando's heart started beating fast again. "We're going to your place?" He gulped. He's never been to another man's place before.

"Yeah," Stevie said nonchalantly, turning into the main road leading into the city centre. Fernando looked outside the window in amazement. Judging by his car, Stevie was getting paid well in Blacklisted. But to live in an apartment smack dab in the middle of the city? That would have cost a fortune.

Stevie's heavy hand on his thigh brought him back to the present.

"Sorry if I called you at work."

Stevie laughed. "It's okay." He massaged dangerously close to Fernando's crotch. "I just want you to feel better."

Fernando inched back against the seat, discreetly trying to move away, but having no space to escape. He choked out nervously, "You're so... helpful."

Stevie took his eyes off the road briefly to grin at him. "And you're still fidgety."

Fernando laughed shakily. "Yeah, well, I've only had sex once. It's not like that's a lot of practice."

And he didn't really mean for that to be a pick-up line, but that was begging for it.

Stevie didn't miss a beat - "Oh, don't worry. We can do it again and again until you get used to it."

"I have class at 1 PM."

"We'll find a way to work around your schedule."

A blush spread across Fernando's cheeks. "You mean, you and I could..."

Stevie's eyes widened. He clarified immediately, "...Fuck around." He stressed again, "You and I could fuck around."

"Oh."

Stevie pulled into the parking lot of a towering apartment building. He killed the engine but didn't move from his seat.

"You know this isn't, like, a _date_ or anything, right?"

Fernando was mortified. He felt like a five-year-old being lectured by his parent. "I know, I know. Forget I said anything," he mumbled, ducking his head in embarrassment.

Stevie cooed, "Aww." He caressed Fernando's cheek, "You're so cute."

"Cute wasn't what I was really aiming for - " Fernando's sentence got cut off as Stevie slipped his hand under Fernando's shirt. He let out a low groan.

"I didn't say you were _just_ cute," Stevie murmured, and then suddenly he was right up against Fernando and all his words were blowing against the blonde's neck. "You've got a body that I just want to - " he growled, primal and animalistic, digging his fingers into the toned flesh of Fernando's stomach. "Goddammit, you have too many clothes on."

"Come on then," Fernando said, undoing his seatbelt.

The two boys rushed out of the car and into the lift. It felt like the elevator could only inch upward agonisingly slowly. After Stevie got the door unlocked, he practically threw Fernando inside. The blonde stumbled in, grabbing the coat rack for balance.

"Oh, perfect," Stevie grinned, sliding off Fernando's jacket and hanging it haphazardly.

"Shirts too?" Fernando tugged questioningly on Stevie's button-down.

"Go," Stevie held out his arms.

Fernando unbuttoned Stevie's top, lips following the trail of his fingers as more and more of Stevie's chest was exposed. As Fernando went further down, Stevie felt himself getting harder and harder. Fernando kissed at Stevie's abdomen, already popping open the button of Stevie's jeans. But the Scouser didn't need his mouth right now. If all he wanted was a blowjob, he wouldn't have bothered leaving the Blacklisted office - someone or the other would have gladly offered their services. (He worked with a lot of cocksluts.)

But he had driven all the way to the university belt and - he would never live this down - _picked up the boy from school like a fucking pedophile_. He needed a good, thorough fuck.

Stevie pulled Fernando to his feet.

"What?"

"The condoms and the lube are in my bedroom," Stevie said.

Fernando nodded, but Stevie held up his hand: "I want you naked and hard by the time you get there," he instructed.

Fernando's jaw dropped, but he nodded again.

Stevie smiled, power coursing deliciously through his veins. His cock was at its hardest.

"Bedroom's the second door to the right. Don't take long."

*

Fernando could picture himself and it wasn't pretty: he was sprawled on his stomach, arms and legs akimbo, face flat on the soft comforter of Stevie's bed. 

"I'll get going in a while, just give me a second," he mumbled tiredly into the sheets.

"What time do you need to get back?" Stevie asked, his voice just as raspy.

"I have a class at 1."

"And I have a meeting at 2."

Fernando groaned. He lifted his head an inch to check his watch. It was already a little past noon. "Fine, fine, I'm getting up," he announced grumpily to himself. He pushed himself up to his knees, his limbs shaking weakly with every move. "Dammit, Stevie, you didn't have to fuck me so hard," he grumbled.

He heard Stevie snort somewhere underneath the blankets.

Fernando gingerly rolled off the bed, and Stevie immediately felt the mattress lift at the change of weight. His head poked out of the comforter.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.

Fernando scratched his stomach lazily. "Is it okay if I use your shower? I'll just clean up."

Stevie sat up. "No," he said. He tugged at Fernando's arm, "Come back here."

"Stevie!" The Spaniard protested.

"It's still early."

Fernando sighed. His body was in pain anyway - a few more minutes of lying down would surely do him some good. "Okay, okay."

He joined Stevie in bed. Beside him, the Scouser's breathing became shallow and steady and soon, Stevie was snoring softly.

Fernando let his fingers play on the flat plane of the older man's stomach. It was so firm underneath his touch, the ridges deep in between the abs. The hair on Stevie's torso tickled his palms as he ran it over the cuts of muscle.

"What are you up to, lad?" Stevie grunted. His eyes were still closed and his lips were still stuck together. But his grip on his pillow was tense and tightening.

"Hm?" Fernando continued stroking Stevie's stomach absentmindedly. His thoughts had begun to wander - will he make it to his class on time? Was he supposed to pass his paper today or was that for next week? Oh, shit, was that for _last_ week? He knew he wrote that down in his planner... somewhere.

He didn't notice Stevie beside him stirring into wakefulness.

The Scouser cracked one eye open to glimpse down at his body. Fernando's fingers were nimble and careless as they brushed along his hips, his abdomen, his sensitive navel. He snatched Fernando's hands like a predator. He heard Fernando gasp in surprise beside him.

"What, you want to do it again?" Stevie challenged, bringing Fernando's hand to his lips and kissing it.

Fernando was stunned; he stammered, "No, I didn't mean to..." But his eyes rolled to the back of his head as Stevie took his index finger and sucked on it. He didn't know why that simple act turned him on so much.

Stevie was immediately on his hands and knees, pouncing on Fernando to pin him down, and then mounting him.

"You're hard already?" Fernando asked in disbelief, his heart pounding loudly in his chest.

"You wouldn't keep your hands off me."

"I didn't know it would turn you on."

But Stevie was already rooting through the blankets, muttering in frustration, "Where the hell did I place the lube?"

Fernando groaned at the shifting pressure of Stevie on his crotch. "You threw it somewhere there earlier. I told you to put it back on the dresser so we wouldn't have a hard time finding it."

"Sorry, mom," Stevie rolled his eyes as he threw the pillows to the side, still searching aimlessly.

"You're thinking about your mom right now?" Fernando asked. Stevie glanced down at him, and the boy must have caught up: He was staring hungrily at Stevie now, chewing on his bottom lip, as if to fight for restraint.

Stevie nodded in approval, "You just wait until I find the lube - ah. There it is."

Fernando's breath was quickening in anticipation. He watched as Stevie poured dollops of lube in his palm.

"That much?" He asked.

Stevie winked. "You need it."

Then, Fernando felt two fingers pushing against his entrance. It burned painfully, even as they slipped in. He winced, and the discomfort read all over his face.

"Told you," Stevie snickered.

"Fuck," Fernando tried to calm himself down despite the pain. "Why does it still hurt?"

Stevie shrugged, concentrating on pushing three fingers in this time. Fernando groaned loudly, squirming to escape the penetration.

"Bloody hell," Stevie grinned deviously to himself. "You're so fucking tight."

A fresh sheet of sweat broke all over Fernando's body. "Is that a good thing?" He panted out.

"It's a very good thing," Stevie said, and Fernando had to scream as the Scouser pushed in the head of his cock into his ass.

"Stevie!" He punched his shoulder as an involuntary reflex.

"Relax!" Stevie barked. The older man easily overpowered Fernando, taking his hands and pinning it on top of his head. "Raise your legs."

Fernando gulped. He bent his legs at the knee and nervously spread them wider.

Stevie shook his head, "No." He took Fernando's legs and wrapped them around his waist, raising his ass a few more inches. Fernando felt so exposed.

Stevie thrust in again. The lube was cold, but the pain still burned as the thick head and the even thicker shaft pushed past Fernando's entrance. The ring of muscle wouldn't give in so easily.

"Holy - " And the way Stevie moaned it out made it sound like the word had three or four syllables. "Holy shit, Fernando. You're so tight."

With one last push, Stevie buried himself to the hilt. Fernando could feel his pelvic bone digging into his ass - that was how connected they were. He felt filled. He felt penetrated all the way up to his belly. It was a strange sensation, and Fernando still had to decipher if it felt good. But it definitely felt fulfilling. Stevie had a monster of a cock. And it was all inside him. He took it all inside him.

"You're just as tight as you were the first time." Stevie had a manic grin on his face as he started rocking on top of Fernando.

The Spaniard closed his eyes, the slicing motion massaged his insides. "It definitely hurts like it did the first time."

Stevie roughly combed his hand into Fernando's long hair. "You're a perpetual virgin, aren't you?" He snickered, "I love myself a virgin."

Fernando groaned at Stevie's words. "I'm always tight for you." He glanced down to see Stevie's thick member disappearing into his ass. "You're so _big_ ," he moaned throatily.

Stevie slammed their mouths together, kissing him messily. Fernando licked anywhere he could reach - Stevie's lips, cheeks, jaw and neck.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last," Stevie said, cock pistoning in and out of Fernando.

"Go on," Fernando urged, rolling his hips as well to meet Stevie's thrusts. "I love it when you come. It's always steaming hot against my skin. I'll even let you lick it off my ass."

Stevie thrust faster and faster to keep up with Fernando's words. "Touch yourself," he panted out.

Fernando reached down for his cock, tugging at it languidly. He smiled provocatively up at Stevie, "You like watching me, don't you?" He purred out. "You like seeing me jack off to you."

"Fuck you and your dirty mouth," Stevie shook his head, but they both knew he meant yes, yes, oh god, yes.

Stevie took Fernando's cock and started stroking it too. Fernando was taking too long. He pulled at the hardened flesh like a mad man. Fernando mewled like a slut underneath him.

"I'm near," Fernando breathed out.

Stevie twisted his hands around Fernando's shaft with renewed vigour. The Spaniard threw his head back and groaned loudly. His cum exploded all over Stevie's stomach.

The Scouser took advantage of Fernando's spasms to thrust wildly into his tightening ass. The heat wrapped around his cock like a vice grip.

"Fuck!" he yelled out, his orgasm ripping through his body. Fernando watched him in morbid fascination. Stevie's muscles clenched everywhere, his legs and torso shuddered as his cum spurted out.

Stevie pulled out of Fernando and collapsed beside him in bed. They both stared at the ceiling, drained and used.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

"My class starts in fifteen minutes."

"Well, if you're going to be late anyway, you might as well cut it."

Fernando yawned and pulled the comforter over his body. "Fine."

*

By the time Stevie arrived at the meeting, the conference room was empty save for two people: Mikel was dismantling the projector and laptop, while Xabi sat at the head of the table, prim and proper and surely suppressing a big tantrum.

"You're late," Xabi spoke crossly.

Stevie folded his hands behind his back and rocked on his toes. "Sorry, I ran into some trouble," he fibbed, avoiding Xabi's gaze. By trouble, of course, he meant a boy named Fernando Torres. They both ended up oversleeping, and by the time they finished showering and making out and dressing up and making out, there was no way Stevie was getting to Blacklisted on time.

"What kind of trouble?" Xabi asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Did you trip and fall on your bed? Did you accidentally insert your dick into someone's mouth? _Again?_ "

Stevie heard Mikel snort loudly behind him. "Okay, so I was with someone, and I guess I lost track of time," he said, settling for a partial concession in the hopes that Xabi would be more willing to let the issue go.

Xabi just rubbed his chin. "Really? Anyone I know?"

"I don't think so."

"Anyone on my payroll?"

Stevie didn't answer. He just shrugged.

"Don't you dare lie to me Steven Gerrard," Xabi said in a singsong tone. It didn't make him any less threatening. "You know I have ways of finding out the truth."

Stevie threw his hands up in the air. "Fine! So, it was Fernando. What's the big deal?"

"I don't know. What _is_ the big deal, Stevie? Why were you hiding it?"

Mikel laughed heartily. "Sorry, Stevie G. You fell into the trap."

Stevie snapped back, "What are you still even doing here? Don't you have to make tea or something? Wipe a table? Lick Xabi's boots?"

"Stevie," Xabi warned.

"Oh, I forgot, I'm sorry. His official designation is _executive assistant_."

"At least I'm not fucking the new recruit."

"So bloody what? It's not like nobody else is fucking around in this company. I bet you someone is giving head in the bathrooms at this very moment."

Xabi raised his hands to get the two men to calm down. He told Stevie pointedly, "Fernando likes you." It wasn't even a question.

Stevie didn't blink when he said, "Yes. Obviously."

"Do you like him?"

"I like his ass."

"That's where it all starts."

Stevie scoffed. "That's bullshit. It's not like our sex is even that great."

Xabi's eyebrows raised - a rare expression of shock. "What do you mean?"

Stevie shrugged haughtily. "I mean, it's fun. But it's all vanilla. Nothing you can't get from a fag you throw a 20 dollar bill at."

Mikel's jaw dropped. Even Xabi looked properly stunned. They both glanced at each other, and that was only when Stevie started to rethink everything he said. But he was feeling cornered. He knew what Xabi was trying to drive at.

"Interesting," Xabi broke the silence, a small smile playing on his lips.

Mikel clarified, "So, it's all one-way, you say?"

Stevie nodded.

Xabi shared, "I was just telling Mikel how boys never get over the guys who topped them for the first time." He beckoned Mikel over, "Look at Miki here. He's still my bitch. Right?"

Mikel smiled bashfully, but he nodded. Xabi grinned, and planted a kiss on his neck as if to reward him.

"How about you, Stevie?"

A hot flush spread over the Scouser's cheeks and neck. Xabi stared at him smugly, waiting for a response.

Stevie was an exclusive top. He'd always been an exclusive top. In all his one-night stands, in all his relationships, in all his porn movies. Except for when he was with Xabi.

"I guess so." He answered gruffly.

Xabi grinned in satisfaction. "Okay, you can both go." He said, dismissing the two. Stevie stomped out immediately, slamming the door behind him.

Mikel delayed for a few more minutes, taking his time in fixing the files on the table.

"Xabi?" He asked cautiously.

"Hm?" Xabi responded distractedly, busy texting on his Blackberry.

"About what you said earlier... I was just wondering," Mikel took a deep breath, "Have you ever been topped?"

Xabi's head shot up, and his good mood had dissipated in a flash. He glared at Mikel and his words were dripping with venom. "I would never, ever let myself be fucked by anyone."

Mikel gulped. "Okay," he squeaked.

"Can you please get out of here? I don't want to see you." Xabi demanded loudly.

Mikel grabbed all the folders and envelops and piled them in his arms hastily.

"Get out!" Xabi screamed after him.

*

By the time Xabi arrived home, his older brother was just arriving too. And judging by the crooked way Mikel had parked in their garage, he had gotten himself something to drink.

"Evening," Mikel greeted, as he stumbled out of his car, a wide, goofy grin on his face.

Xabi rolled his eyes. "Good evening." He took out his keys to unlock their front door, while Mikel waited. Xabi assumed Mikel had lost his keys _again_. He swore to God, one day, robbers would just walk into their house and loot all their belongings.

Once the door was unlocked, Xabi stormed in while Mikel shuffled drunkenly behind him. It was their usual entrance into their home.

Xabi threw down his bags onto a chair and went to the kitchen. There was nothing in the ref - he grabbed a pitcher of water and a glass.

"Water?" Mikel snickered. "You look like you need something stronger. Like vodka."

"Oh, is that what you've had? No wonder you've been walking around in a straight line," Xabi snapped back.

"I just had a couple of beers." Mikel protested. "How was work?"

"Horrible, as it is every day. I don't understand why I work with such idiots." Xabi's fingers trembled as he poured himself something to drink.

"Hey, you're always so stressed," Mikel said, coming up behind Xabi and patting him on the shoulder comfortingly.

Xabi took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It calmed his nerves a little. "Sorry."

"There, there." Mikel said. He dug his fingers into Xabi's shoulderblades, gently kneading the tense muscles.

Xabi sighed in pleasure. That felt good.

Then, Mikel's hands drifted over to Xabi's front, where they stroked at his neck and chest. That felt good too.

"Mikel..." Xabi breathed out. "Let's not do this."

His older brother's hands were on his hips now, holding him close. "But you're so hot when you're angry," Mikel murmured, rolling his pelvis forward. Xabi felt his growing erection pressing against his ass.

"No." Xabi said with more force now, turning around in Mikel's arms. But Mikel just slipped his hands around Xabi's waist to cup the younger boy's behind.

"I missed this," he grinned.

"Well, I didn't." Xabi said, shoving Mikel away.

Mikel stumbled back, but he just laughed to himself, shaking his head. "You were much more agreeable when you were younger."

Xabi felt his anger bubbling all the way up to his ears. "I've had better now, so I don't see any reason why I should go back to you," he jibed.

But if there was anyone who could always cut through Xabi's crap, it was Mikel. He knew when it was just all talk. He nodded slowly, his smile patronising.

"Right, right. I forgot. You run your own porn company now. You have a never-ending line of boys who would willingly give themselves up to you."

Xabi's smile was steely. "Exactly."

Mikel pinched Xabi's cheek, "You're such a big boy."

Xabi swatted his hand away. "Excuse me," he said, walking around Mikel with his head held high.

"Good night," Mikel called after him.

Xabi didn't answer and just stomped upstairs to his bedroom.


	8. The takedown

Fernando flipped through the pages, although he had stopped reading a while ago. The words were just swimming before his eyes now.

“So, what do you think of it?” Xabi asked.

The blonde smiled nervously. “It's a great story.”

“But?”

“...I just don't think it's for me.”

Xabi leaned forward on his desk to look closely at Fernando. “And why not? It's our best script on-hand right now.”

Fernando coughed and scanned the papers again. “It's just a little too... risqué.”

Xabi got a strange look on his face - halfway between a smile and a sneer. Then, he shrugged. “Oh, well. I thought so.”

“...What do you mean?”

“Oh, it's nothing,” Xabi said nonchalantly. “I should have known. Stevie already warned me that you still prefer to play it safe.”

Fernando shifted in his seat, forehead wrinkling, “Yeah, I guess. A little. I mean, I can't even believe that I - “

“I know,” Xabi cut him off sharply. He was in no mood to listen to Fernando gushing about his feelings. “I just thought that since you and Stevie were meeting up outside of work, he's been able to train you.”

Fernando burned a bright red, and he started blubbering again.

Xabi smiled knowingly, “You have been seeing Stevie, right?”

It was disgusting the way Fernando's eyes twinkled when he nodded.

“Have you been learning from it?” Xabi asked. He clarified with a gallant smile, “I just want to know from a professional point of view, of course. I hope you don’t think I’m intruding in your sex life or anything.”

Fernando nodded naively. “I understand. And yes, I’ve been learning.”

Xabi motioned for him to elaborate. The blonde glanced down shyly, “Well, I’ve gotten used to the pain, for one. And I think I’ve become more comfortable in bed too.”

“You mean, you’ve become more comfortable in your ability in bed.”

“…I guess so.”

“I’m curious. How would you rate yourself?” Xabi asked.

Fernando’s jaw dropped. “I don’t think I can.”

“I’m not amused by false modesty, Fernando.”

“I’m not pretending to be modest, I just don’t think it’s appropriate for me to – ”

“There is no ‘appropriate’ in the porn industry, love.”

Fernando opened his mouth to continue protesting, but Xabi just held up his hand. The boy immediately stopped talking.

“Do you think you’re good?”

Fernando laughed uneasily. “I wouldn’t say I’m ‘good’ – ”

Xabi shook his head in disapproval. He stood up and walked towards the window of his corner office, staring out at the sprawling city below.

He mused loudly, “Fernando, you realise you represent Blacklisted. You represent my company and you represent me. And when you tell me you don’t think you’re good, you’re telling me I hire bad actors in my company. And that makes me a bad president.”

Fernando shrank in his seat. “Yes, sir.”

“So?”

Fernando cleared his throat. He looked straight at the lean lines of Xabi’s back as he worked up the nerve to say: “I think I’m a good fuck.”

“Huh.” Xabi snickered so softly, Fernando almost didn’t catch it. The Basque looked over his shoulder so he could glance at Fernando fleetingly. “That’s not what Stevie said.”

Fernando’s head spun. He couldn’t keep track of this conversation – Xabi wanted him to believe he was good, except that… he wasn’t? According to Stevie?

“I don’t understand.”

Fernando sounded so small and helpless that Xabi had to turn around to face him. Just so he could see the way the blonde crumbled in front of him. He bit back a smile and thickly layered his words with concern.

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Xabi sighed ruefully. “It’s just that I think it’s best to have it out there in the open. With open communication and honest feedback, your working relationship with Stevie can only get better.”

Fernando was still in disbelief. “Did – did he tell you anything in particular?”

Xabi bit his lip and pretended to think. “I think he mentioned something about how your sex was all just… vanilla.”

Fernando's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Vanilla?”

Xabi nodded slowly. “Maybe you should look it up, and then discuss it with Stevie.”

Fernando nodded dazedly. He stood up and gathered his things.

“Oh, here,” he remembered, returning Xabi’s script.

Xabi waved it away. “Keep it.”

Fernando stared at the folder in his hand, “But I don’t want this project.”

Xabi smiled at him innocently. “Well, just keep it for your reference.”

*

“Mr Gerrard?”

Stevie approached his intercom and pressed the ‘talk’ button. “Yes?”

“A certain Fernando Torres is here for you,” the doorman said. “Should I let him go up?”

Fuck. What now? Stevie was hoping to just sit back on his couch and watch Sky Sports all night with a beer in one hand and crisps on the other. He rubbed his temples. “Sure, thank you.”

What the hell was Fernando doing visiting his apartment building? He didn’t invite him over. This was Stevie’s shag pad, not their _love nest_.

Did Fernando think he could drop by all the time now? What if he thought he could just show up at Stevie’s doorstep unannounced? And then Stevie would have to take him in. Like… like a puppy. Like a puppy that stalked you and stared at you with wet, hopeful eyes until you took it in and gave it a name and made it your pet until you got _attached_ to it.

The doorbell rang, and Stevie stomped to the front door. His mind was reeling.

He didn’t expect Fernando to be standing there, looking absolutely livid. It made Stevie the tentative one.

“Hey,” he greeted carefully.

Then Fernando just _exploded_. “You fucker!”

“Jesus! What’s happening?”

“You told Xabi you think I’m vanilla? VANILLA?!”

Stevie’s jaw dropped. “How did you… Omigod, I’m going to kill Xabi.”

“VANILLA?” Fernando was still screeching.

Stevie tried to calm the Spaniard down, “Fernando, shh.”

“No!”

“Nando, Nando, please,” Stevie looked up and down the hallway, “My neighbours will hear us.”

He tried to usher Fernando inside, but Fernando shoved him away.

Stevie tried again, “Look, it was a throwaway comment. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Xabi is my _boss_! And you know you’re his favourite! Of course he’s gonna take everything you say seriously!”

“Is this why you’re really mad?”

And Fernando got even redder. “What are you implying? What, you think I’m hurt that you don’t enjoy having sex with me?” He yelled.

Stevie shrugged.

“Oh, you fucking asshole.” Fernando scoffed, “I don’t care if you think I’m boring in bed.”

“Fernando, I don’t think you’re boring in bed!”

“So you were lying to Xabi?”

“Yes!”

“So I can call Xabi right now and tell him, hey, guess what, Stevie would like to take back everything he said? He’s been lying to you the entire time?”

Stevie paled.

“If you weren’t lying, then just admit it’s the truth,” Fernando said, point-blank.

“I didn’t mean ‘boring.’ I just meant you’re… conventional.”

“Oh, wow.”

“No! I mean, you’re just not as adventurous as others,” Stevie worded his sentences carefully. “But it’s not you. It’s just the job. Some of the people from Blacklisted, they just really go to pretty ridiculous extremes in bed.”

Fernando just glared at him.

Stevie sighed, “What do you want me to say?”

Fernando dug out a folder from his bag. He slapped it roughly against Stevie’s chest.

Stevie scrambled to catch the folder and keep the papers from falling out. He quickly scanned through it. It was the storyboard Christian Poulsen presented to them this morning. It was nothing hardcore, nothing that would be immediately assigned to Martin Skrtel or Daniel Agger. But it wasn’t exactly something Stevie would typically do.

“What will I do with this?”

Fernando’s face was stony. “Tell Xabi we’re doing that project.”

*

Stevie didn’t expect to see Fernando so soon after their fight. But there he was. Stevie had just unlocked the door to his apartment, and there was Fernando, standing in the middle of his living room.

The strangeness of the situation didn’t hit Stevie at first.

“What are you doing here?”

Fernando shrugged. He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the couch.

“And how did you get in?”

Fernando smiled innocently and shrugged again. He undid his belt.

Stevie gulped. He wondered if Fernando would just keep stripping with every question he asked.

“What’s going on?”

Stevie’s eyes followed every article of clothing: the shirt, the jeans, then the boxers, until Fernando was standing buck-naked.

The Scouser checked his watch. His brother, Paul, was coming over in an hour to watch the Liverpool game on Stevie’s 52-inch plasma TV. He still had time.

“Come on,” Stevie said, shrugging off his coat as well. He advanced on Fernando like a man with a purpose. But the Spaniard just stood his ground and put his hands behind his back.

“What do you intend to do?” He asked, batting his eyelashes.

Stevie grinned. Was Fernando taking to dirty talk? He obliged the blonde.

“I’m going to take your ass and use it hard.”

Fernando chewed on his lip, as if he were considering the idea. Then he shook his head.

“No. I want you to suck me off.”

Stevie waved him off, “Sure, whatever. I’ll give you a blowjob after I fuck you – we’ll be fast, I promise. My brother’s arriving in a while.”

Fernando laughed, making Stevie stop halfway from shimmying out of his trousers. They hung awkwardly around his knees.

“No, no, no, Stevie,” the Spaniard tsked. “I said, I want you to suck me off. Make me come _just_ by blowing me.”

Stevie’s eyes narrowed. Was Fernando _commanding_ him to give head?

“Well, what if I don’t want to?” He challenged.

Fernando smirked. “I don’t care if you don’t want to. You have to.”

“What?”

The younger boy went back to the pile of his discarded clothes. For a moment, Stevie was distracted as Fernando bent over, rummaging through the garments until he fished something out of his jeans.

Stevie still wasn’t thinking straight when Fernando straightened up.

“What are those?”

Something glistened around Fernando’s wrist. Then with a soft click, he locked a handcuff on himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Stevie was aghast.

“I knew you would make this difficult,” Fernando explained. He walked over to the kitchen where a slender column stood in the middle of the space. He leaned back, wrapped his arms around the column behind him and cuffed himself.

“Holy mother of – what the fuck is this?” Stevie yelled. The excitement that was coursing through his veins earlier had vanished completely. Now, he was just cold all over.

“Keys. Give me the keys.” The Scouser demanded. His voice wavered slightly in panic. Fernando was naked and tied to a post, smack dab in the centre of his kitchen.

“They’re not with me.” 

“What? Where are they?!”

“I hid them.” Fernando said sweetly.

“Tell me where they are!” Stevie demanded.

“After you blow me.” 

“And if I don’t?” Stevie challenged like an idiot who didn’t know he was losing.

“It’s not like I can go anywhere,” the blonde pointed out.

Stevie shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “You could be lying to me.”

Fernando shrugged.

Stevie gritted his teeth. Fuck that man. Fuck that man for knowing he could choose not to answer. Fernando knew – he knew Stevie had no choice but to trust him.

Stevie checked his watch again. He had three-quarters of an hour left before Paul arrived. But who knew how long it would take to turn his apartment upside down looking for keys he didn’t know existed?

“Let’s do this.”

Fernando grinned. “Make it good, baby.”

Stevie approached Fernando’s prone figure and let his fingers caress the Spaniard’s stomach. Fernando inhaled sharply.

“This will be easy.” Stevie taunted.

“Yeah?” Fernando challenged though his breath was hitching, “Just so you know, I jacked off just before you arrived. So I’m going to last much, much longer than usual.”

Stevie frowned. “You jacked off here?”

“On your bed. I hope you don’t mind.”

And just because Fernando said that in a nice and innocent way didn’t mean Stevie didn’t picture many obscene things in his mind. He wanted to go to his bedroom now, just to check. Was the bed unmade? Did Fernando leave a mess? Would his sheets smell like the boy?

Stevie dropped to his knees and took Fernando’s cock in his hands. He took a deep breath – the scent of Fernando’s sex was still fresh on his skin. Then he slid the hardness into his mouth in one smooth stroke.

Fernando was usually loud whenever they had sex. This time, though, he just stood still, his face placid, his lips pursed. The only signs he was enjoying the blowjob were the tension in his calf muscles, the furrow in his brow.

Stevie hollowed out his cheeks and sucked harder. The slurping noises sounded wet and sick in the quiet kitchen. Fernando let out a small whimper. His eyes were squeezed shut, as if he were focused on maintaining his composure. He didn’t even thrust his cock down Stevie’s throat. His hips simply rolled in small circles.

Stevie felt a pang of worry. He wouldn’t admit this out loud, but he’s never had to suck anyone off before. He was an exclusive top (except when he was with Xabi) – that meant having someone else placing their mouths on his dick. Sure, he gave blowjobs. But it was all foreplay, never the whole run.

Stevie found himself almost shoving his head forward out of eagerness. He went all the way until Fernando’s cock hit the base of his throat and his nose was buried in the sparse hair of the Spaniard’s groin. Stevie could hear Fernando’s breathing getting ragged now.

Suddenly, his phone rang. The pair stubbornly ignored it until the call went to the answering machine.

“Hey, this is Stevie Gerrard. I’m not here at the moment, but leave me a message and I’ll probably call you when I get back. If this is Carra, I probably won’t though. Oh, and if this is Xabi, I am calling you _right now_.”

“Mr Gerrard?” It was the doorman again. “Your brother is here for you.”

Stevie pulled back so quickly, he almost fell back on his haunches. Paul was here already? It was still early!

“Stevie,” Fernando whined.

“One second. Give me one second,” Stevie said, voice raspy and throat raw. He clambered to his feet with much effort – he didn’t realise how hard he’d gotten during the blowjob.

“Hello?” Stevie greeted breathlessly, “Yeah, could you connect me to my brother, please?”

There were a lot of fiddling noises as the phone got passed around in the lobby, but finally, Stevie heard his brother on the other end of the line.

“Yo,” Paul greeted. “I’m here.”

“Hey,” Stevie answered shakily. “So early?”

“Yeah, my meeting finished on time for once. Can you believe it?”

Stevie laughed forcibly. “Great. But, uh, I’m still finishing some things here upstairs. Do you mind waiting for around, um…” He glanced over at Fernando. Fernando glared back, nodding to his hard, leaking cock.

“How about twenty minutes?” Stevie asked.

“What? Stevie, we’ll miss the pre-match talk on Sky Sports!”

“Come on, Paul, that’s all air and you know it. Jamie Redknapp can’t commentate for shit.”

“Twenty minutes? Really?” Paul sighed heavily. He compromised, “Fifteen.”

Stevie stomped his foot in frustration. His groin was aching so badly already, he didn’t have the brainpower to argue. “Fine, whatever. I have to go.”

“Can’t I just wait there in your place? It’s cold here in the lobby!”

“No!” Stevie yelled too loudly. He cleared his throat and tried again, calmer this time, “I mean, no. I’m, er, vacuuming carpets. You wouldn’t want to hang out here. It’s too dusty.”

“Fucking hell, Stevie, why in the bloody world are you vacuuming in the middle of the day?”

“Because! I spilled… tortilla chips. And the crumbs got crushed into the carpets,” Stevie finished lamely.

“Jesus Christ,” Paul muttered.

“How about you drop by the Tesco down the block and get us beer? I think I’m running low.”

“Fine,” Paul sighed. “You want light beer?”

Stevie eyed Fernando who was writing on the column, trying to get friction – anything – on his cock.

“No, no. Get me something stronger, Paul,” he said.

Stevie practically threw down the phone, he wasn’t even sure if he placed it on the cradle properly. He didn’t care right now. He was running back to Fernando.

“I don’t think I’m going to finish in 15 minutes.”

“Yeah, you will,” Stevie said.

“I could have. But since you took your phone call, I think that set you back another, hmm, 10 minutes?” Fernando taunted back.

“Uh-huh. You’re still hard,” Stevie said, lightly scratching Fernando’s rod with the tip of his nail. The Spaniard hissed.

“You like that?”

“It doesn’t matter if I like it or not. It’s not gonna count unless you use your mouth.”

Stevie glared at him defiantly. “Fine.”

He didn’t know that was how it felt like to take a cock in that deep. It was like his throat was pried open, and with every gulp of air he took, his muscles constricted around the hard flesh.

Fernando was going crazy now. Pre-cum was seeping steadily out of his cock, Stevie could taste Fernando everywhere in his mouth. He still wasn’t thrusting wildly, but his hips were rocking back and forth with in small, deliberate movements. Stevie could hear the metal of the handcuffs scraping against the column as Fernando yanked at his restraints.

“You like that? You like being tied up? I can do anything to you.”

Fernando groaned loudly. “So do anything to me.”

Stevie followed his orders. There was no rhythm or rationality anymore – he lapped at wherever he could reach.

He bit at Fernando’s thigh. He licked at his groin. He sucked hard on the head of Fernando’s cock as if he were coaxing the cum out. He grazed his teeth against the shaft, and he was sure that was more painful than pleasurable, but Fernando moaned in delirium anyway. Then, he carefully took Fernando’s heavy balls into his mouth and hummed around them.

Fernando keened so loudly, Stevie was sure his neighbours heard. Fernando came and spurted two, three loads of cum in Stevie’s mouth. It was a lot, but Fernando was too deep in Stevie’s throat; Stevie didn’t need to swallow it down.

Stevie stood up unsteadily, and when he got to his feet, his cock was practically pointing up towards his belly. He was that aroused.

Fernando had gone limp – it seemed like he was hanging off of his cuffed hands. Stevie reached out to hold him up.

The Spaniard dazedly opened his eyes. “Keys are in your cereal box.”

Stevie laughed, “Creative.”

“It was either that or the teapot.”

“Now I know where to look for them next time.”

The Scouser retrieved the keys and undid the handcuffs. Fernando slid down the column and sat on the floor to rest.

“You know, that’s the perfect position,” Stevie said.

Fernando looked up, confused.

Stevie walked forward a few steps and stood with his legs apart. His cock stood at attention, at about the same height as Fernando’s mouth.

Stevie grinned meaningfully. Fernando smirked back. Then he unceremoniously swatted away Stevie’s erection like it was a pesky bug.

“No,” he said brattily. The glint was back in his eyes.

“What?” Stevie exclaimed. He gestured wildly at his stiff member. “You’re gonna give me fucking blue balls!”

Fernando shrugged noncommittally, “Aren’t you expecting guests?” He untangled himself from Stevie and collected his clothes from the living room. Stevie followed him, his sac aching with his every move.

“It’s just my brother. I can just call him and tell him – ”

The doorbell rang.

Fernando smiled. He jumped into his jeans, “Too late, honey.”

“You can’t let me go out there like this!”

Fernando glanced down at Stevie’s hard-on. “Have a wank. By the looks of it, you won’t last five minutes.”

“Why don’t you give me a wank?”

“Why don’t you fuck off?”

The doorbell rang again. Paul yelled from outside, “Yo, Stevie, it’s me! Open up!”

Fernando did the last of his buttons. “Go,” he urged. He threw Stevie a nearby box of tissues, “Sort yourself out.” He added with a giggle, “I can… entertain your brother, if you want.”

“Fernando!”

“Bye, Stevie.”

Stevie expected the Spaniard to lean over and kiss him – at least even on the cheeks, as was his custom. But Fernando just wiggled his fingers at him then breezed out.

Stevie heard his front door close. He yelled in frustration, “What the fuck just happened?!”

He completely forgot that Fernando would have let in his brother. The next thing Stevie knew, Paul was standing at the entrance of his living room, utterly pale and aghast.

“For crying out loud! Steven! Put your dick back in your trousers!”

Stevie grabbed the nearest throw pillow to hide his modesty.

“Aaand, cut!” Carra bellowed, his voice piercing through the haze in Stevie’s brain. His eyes refocused until he saw Carra and his entire crew behind the row of lights and cameras propped against the wall.

“That’s a wrap, people!”

*

“Great shoot, Fernando,” Pepe remarked.

“Thanks,” Fernando grinned shyly as he passed by the camera crew disassembling equipment.

“Felt good to step out of the box, yeah?” Alvaro asked, eyeing the handcuffs Fernando was still clutching.

Fernando laughed. “Yeah. That felt good.”


	9. Bad decisions make for good stories

“Hey, you’re Fernando, right?” A small guy with unruly, light brown hair stopped Fernando in his tracks.

“Yes?”

“I just saw your movie!” The guy said. His clear blue eyes twinkled with enthusiasm.

Fernando shifted uneasily. Xabi told him just last night that Blacklisted had started releasing his movies with Stevie on the Internet. He didn’t expect people to have watched it already.

Granted, this stranger was a Blacklisted employee, but still. It felt so _soon_.

“Um, I hope you liked it?” Fernando asked.

“Liked it? I loved it!” The stranger exclaimed. He extended his hand, “I’m Lucas, by the way.”

Fernando shook his hand. “That’s great, I’m glad at least one person likes it,” he laughed.

“Oh, stop it. You were working with Carra in the videos, right? I was just in a meeting with him this morning and he said he actually liked your work,” Lucas said. “That’s rare. He’s never said that about me, and I’ve been with Blacklisted for a year already!”

Lucas paused and mumbled to himself, “Come to think of it, yeah, he’s never told me that. Maybe he doesn’t like me.”

Fernando bit his lip. “Well, he never praised me to my face either. You never know, maybe he’s telling other people you’re good too.”

Lucas broke into a big, impish grin. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Fernando jutted his thumb to the direction of the canteen, “Anyway, I’ll go ahead. I have to grab lunch before my meeting with Xabi later.”

But Lucas just bounced on his toes excitedly. “Hey, I’m on my way to have lunch too! You should sit with me and my friend!” And even if Fernando didn’t respond, Lucas tagged along by his side like a loyal puppy wagging its tail.

Fernando didn’t think much of it. He didn’t have anyone to have lunch with anyway, maybe it would be good to have friends in Blacklisted.

“Over there, that’s our table,” Lucas announced proudly. By his tone, Fernando expected the table to be at least special in some way. Kind of like in college, where the cool kids always dominated the centre tables or the tables by the lawns.

But when Fernando looked up, it was a generic office canteen. Stuffy, empty and he could already feel the smell of food sticking to his clothes. The exhaust fan at the corner of the room spun pitifully slowly.

Aside from Fernando, Lucas and his friend, there were only three other people in the canteen. One was the cook, the other the cashier, and the other was an employee who really didn’t look like he wanted to be there.

“Fernando, this is Fabio.” Lucas introduced.

Fabio, it turned out, was a stunning, stunning man, with soft, classic good looks. But he wasn’t nearly as suave as he looked.

“Hi,” Fabio greeted as Fernando and Lucas sat down.

“We’re talents here too,” Lucas piped in. “We’re both bottoms.”

“And Brazilian.”

“Brazilian, like, we’re from Brazil.”

“Yeah. Not Brazilian, like, the wax down there.”

Then, they both laughed so hard to themselves, Fabio started snorting.

“Haha,” Fernando laughed robotically. “That’s… that’s funny.”

“Anyway, Fernando, I saw your movie. Great stuff, man. Great, great stuff.”

“Yeah, what was it like working with Stevie? It’s always been my dream to be partnered with him, but Xabi says he’s always unavailable during my shooting schedule,” Lucas pouted.

“It was okay.” Fernando shrugged, “Scary, you know, since he’s such a good actor.” 

“Don’t worry, man, you didn’t look scared at all. Your chemistry. Was. Epic.” Fabio said, popping a handful of fries in his mouth. He talked while chewing, and bits of potato splattered from his mouth to the table. Fernando discreetly moved away.

“Did he give you, like, tips or anything?”

“Shut up, you doofus. Of course Fernando won’t tell us that. You wouldn’t tell him your trade secrets, would you?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Lucas leaned back and narrowed his eyes, “You understand, right, Fernando? I mean I’ve accumulated a couple of nifty tricks over time, but,” he shrugged haughtily, “We’re all still in competition with each other. But don’t get offended or anything, even Fabio and I don’t share our techniques with each other.”

“We respect each other’s mojo,” Fabio thumped his chest with his fist.

“No, no,” Fernando answered quickly. “It’s totally fine.”

“It’s not like you have anything to worry about anyway,” Fabio waved his fry to catch Fernando’s attention. “For sure you and Stevie are going to win best couple in the anniversary party anyway.”

That piqued Fernando’s curiosity. “What was that?”

“The anniversary party!” Lucas said. “Duh.”

Fernando stared at them blankly.

Lucas and Fabio immediately beamed with pride at the idea that they knew something Fernando didn’t.

“You see, Blacklisted celebrates its anniversary every February. They throw a company party and everything.”

Fernando nodded. He understood that. His parents often had office parties.

“They hold a buffet, an open bar, there’s a DJ and all.” Fabio narrated. “It’s all really very lavish. You can just imagine the money a porn company makes.”

“It’s just like other office parties, really.” Lucas said.

“Yeah, except instead of raffling off household appliances and cash prizes, we give out the free sex toys our sponsors give us.”

“Last year, Martin Skrtel even won a double-ended dildo.”

Fabio and Lucas cracked up.

“As if he would even let anything fuck his ass!”

Fernando’s head swam at the information overload. He hasn’t even met Martin Skrtel and now he knew what his sex toy collection was like.

“Anyway, they give out awards too. Best newcomer, best movie, best director,” Lucas explained. “You and Stevie are a shoo-in for the best couple.”

Fernando snickered. “I’ve never even heard of this party. I might not even go.”

“No!” Fabio and Lucas chorused fervently.

“You should go!”

“Yeah, you should totally go!”

Fernando laughed awkwardly. It felt so strange actually being… popular.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about what?” A voice spoke up from behind them.

The three of them immediately turned in their seats. Fernando felt his heart jump at the sight of Stevie leaning over his chair to wrap an arm around his shoulders. He heard Fabio and Lucas inhale sharply, as if awed by just the mere presence of the Scouser.

“Hi, Stevie,” Lucas squeaked.

Fabio stomped on Lucas’ foot so hard, his rubber shoes clomped against the floor loudly.

“Be cool,” Fabio hissed at Lucas under his breath.

Fernando and Stevie stared at the Brazilians, completely befuddled.

“Anyway,” Stevie broke the silence and yanked Fernando to his feet. “You boys don’t mind if I borrow Fernando for a minute, yeah?”

Fabio shook his head, but Lucas nodded. Fabio stomped on Lucas again. “He said, ‘do you mind,’ you idiot. So you have to say no. No, we don’t mind!”

“Fuck, right.” Lucas cursed.

“Jesus, Lucas, you’re so stupid sometimes!” Fabio groaned, slamming his tray on the table.

Stevie and Fernando distanced themselves from the table as quickly as possible. When they were out of earshot, Stevie raised an eyebrow at the Spaniard. He asked carefully, “Honey, why are you eating here in the cafeteria?”

“I – I was hungry,” Fernando stammered.

Stevie raised his eyebrows, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Fernando blinked at him dumbly.

“With the amount of money you make, you could at least have grabbed a cab and went to the shopping centre. There are a hundred and one restaurants there!”

“I – I have money?”

“Of course you do! We get paid every 15th and 30th of the month?”

“Really?”

Stevie tsked. “And since our movie was released last night, and sales went off the charts…” He shrugged, “You should probably check your bank account soon.”

“Okay,” Fernando answered dazedly. He almost forgot this was a paying job.

“Now come on.” Stevie said, already walking out of the canteen.

“Wait, where are we going?”

Stevie checked his watch. “We still have time before our meeting. Let’s get you some proper food.”

Fernando stood rooted on the spot. “But, Lucas and Fabio…?”

Stevie shook his head sternly, “No. You shouldn’t be hanging out with them, Nando.”

“Why not? They’re…” Fernando tried to look for the appropriate adjective. “They’re nice.”

Stevie rolled his eyes. “They’re losers.”

Fernando frowned. He was, by all intents and purposes, a loser. Always have been, since grade school, when he grew taller than everyone else and his ears stuck out of his hair and he burnt red every time they had PE classes in the lawn under the sun.

Stevie sighed and approached him. “You’re with me now. You’re my co-star.” He slung his arm around Fernando to usher him out the canteen, “We don’t hang out with people like them.”

Fernando wanted to shrug off Stevie’s arm. He had sworn to himself he’d be more _guarded_ around Stevie after their last fight.

His mind told him to walk away and return to the Brazilians. But Stevie was strong and gripped his shoulders tight, and he was already talking about this new Italian deli that they should try in the shopping centre.

Fernando let himself be dragged away to where Stevie’s gleaming Range Rover was parked in the basement. He told himself he would be more guarded, sure - guarded, not immune.

He was still a red-blooded male, after all. And it was hard not to be attracted to Stevie.

*

Mikel was on his way inside Xabi’s office just as three strapping young men were piling out. Mikel raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips. He waited for the office door to close before he spoke up.

“I take it their applications went well?”

Xabi was slumped in his chair, his jeans still undone. “They were okay.”

“Are you hiring any of them?”

Xabi snickered. “No.”

“But you fucked them anyway.”

“Of course.”

Mikel laughed. He took the Lysol from the cupboard and sprayed it liberally over the infamous casting couch. Even from a few metres away, the sweat marks were clear against the black leather. He wrinkled his nose in disgust as he sprayed more Lysol to disinfect it.

“I’m so tired,” Xabi groaned from his desk. “I think I’m getting old, Mikel.”

The assistant tsked. He got a tissue box and a bottle of Evian and handed it to Xabi. Xabi stared at him in confusion.

“Drink your water and pat the sweat off your face, and you’ll be good as new,” Mikel said.

Xabi cracked a small smile, amused – touched, even – at Mikel’s concern. He did as he was told and freshened up.

“Your jeans are still unzipped,” Mikel reminded.

Xabi looked down at his jeans. “I’m not done yet.”

“You’re expecting more applicants?”

“No, actually.” Xabi added smoothly, “I was just waiting for you.”

Mikel grinned and his cheeks heated up. Xabi stood up from his desk and walked Mikel onto the casting couch.

“But I just sprayed this!” Mikel giggled as they fell down on the cushions.

“Then it’ll be clean for us,” Xabi said, swooping in to kiss his assistant.

Ten minutes and two hurried orgasms later, Mikel and Xabi lay spent on the casting couch. Xabi was laid out on Mikel’s lap, while the assistant sleepily played with Xabi’s hair.

“Xabi?”

“Hmm?”

Mikel took a deep breath. The boss seemed like he was in a good mood – in fact, Xabi was always in his best mood right after copious amounts of sex. If Xabi didn’t say yes now, he was never going to say yes.

“Can I bring a plus-one to the anniversary party?”

Xabi glanced up at him. There was no violent reaction… so far.

“Who are you bringing?”

“Um,” Mikel stalled. “Your brother.”

Then, Xabi answered coldly. “No.”

“What, so if it wasn’t Mikel, you’d let me?”

“No.” Xabi said. “The company is strictly for Blacklisted employees only.”

Mike scoffed, pushing Xabi off his lap. “It’s not like Mikel is so far and removed from Blacklisted. He’s your brother! Half the time, he’s dropping by the office!”

Xabi sat up, grumbling, “The reason why he’s here all the time is because he doesn’t have a workplace of his own. Mikel’s a fucking lazy bastard.”

Mikel scowled. “He’s not lazy. He works _freelance_.”

“Which is what lazy people do!” Xabi snapped. “Jesus Christ, he’s practically unemployed.”

“Just because you’re the successful brother doesn’t mean you can just insult Mikel like that.”

“You are not bringing him, and that is final.”

Mikel huffed and stood up from the couch, gathering his shirt and jacket.

Xabi eyed Mikel’s half-naked form – as if they didn’t just spend the last few minutes having sex. He said, “Besides, I need you to come to the party with me.”

Mikel’s expression softened, signalling Xabi to immediately clarify: “As my assistant.”

“Oh.”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No, of course not.” Mikel answered testily. “I just don’t understand why you would need an assistant during a party.”

Xabi snickered. “Miki, we have to make sure the awards and the raffle go off without a hitch. Don’t be self-centred, I’m not doing this to punish you.”

Mikel just stared at Xabi defiantly – it was easy to delegate those tasks to other rank and file employees. Assign it to HR, for crying out loud. They never did anything anyway. I mean, it was Mikel and Xabi who took care of screening applicants already, what else was there for HR to do?

“If you think that’s beneath you, then don’t bother coming back to work,” Xabi shrugged nonchalantly. “If I can do without an assistant during the party, I can probably do without an assistant, period.”

Mikel gritted his teeth. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.”

*

Fernando paced his room back and forth, deep in thought. He was in a bind, and he didn’t have anyone to ask about it.

Finally, he gave up and went outside. Sergio was sprawled on the living room couch, engrossed with an episode of Gossip Girl.

Fernando stood in front of him, “Sergio.”

Sergio didn’t even bother to look up. His eyes just shifted slightly in Fernando’s direction.

“I have a question, I was hoping you could help me with it.”

Sergio blinked.

Fernando took that as a sign to rally on. “You see, there’s this… thing,” he gestured vaguely, “At work. A party of some sort. I really want to go with this friend of mine. I mean, we’ve become close lately.”

A corner of Sergio’s mouth twitched. Fernando hurriedly qualified, “Or I _think_ we’ve become close.” He huffed, shoulders sagging, “But he hasn’t asked me.”

Sergio blinked again.

“So, what do you think?” Fernando asked, feeling stupid.

Sergio smiled patronisingly, “Honey, you’re blocking the TV.”

*

Xabi was not pleased when he arrived at work the next day and saw Stevie and the Mikels out front, smoking.

Firstly, he didn’t like it when he had to see his brother more than necessary. Second, he didn’t like it when Mikel hung out with the other Mikel – for a lot of reasons Xabi himself couldn’t quite figure out. And thirdly, he didn’t like it when Mikel associated with other people in Blacklisted. Stevie, for example. Since when did his older brother and Stevie become friends? And why in the world did Miki Arteta allow them to be friends? Miki hated Stevie.

But there they were, lounging on the steps, passing around Mikel’s lighter and chatting away.

Xabi suddenly felt out of place in his starched white shirt and slacks. The three boys were all casual and rumpled in denim and rolled-up sleeves. He didn’t like feeling alienated in his own office.

“Why are you all here?” Xabi demanded as he neared their group.

Stevie and Miki paled immediately at their boss’s tone. But his brother just laughed him off.

“Oh, come off it, Xabi. Is smoking against the rules now too?”

Xabi turned red. “It’s eight in the morning and you’re all taking a cigarette break already?”

“Well, if I had to work for you, I’d need to smoke to get me through the day too,” Mikel answered again. Miki and Stevie were behind him, shaking their heads wildly and protesting.

“No, no, no, that’s not true,” Miki was stammering, while Stevie was already stubbing out his cigarette.

“Could you leave?” Xabi snapped at his brother.

Mikel just smiled and blew a cloud of smoke in Xabi’s direction. “No.”

Xabi glanced at his assistant and raised his eyebrows. “What did you ever see in this man?”

“Why, what did he ever see in _you_?” The older Alonso retaliated smoothly.

Xabi scoffed. “I don’t want him to see anything in me.”

“Then why are you here?”

Xabi’s jaw dropped. “I – ” he faltered, but kept his chin high, “I’m here for Stevie.”

He saw the glint of hurt in Miki’s eyes. But he asked for it.

Xabi turned to Stevie, cocked his head to the side a little bit and grinned his most debonair grin, “You going to the party next week?”

Stevie perked at attention. He half-shrugged. “Yeah.”

“You should take me.”

Xabi was sure the pause was just brief, the tension barely palpable. But in his head, everything moved in slow motion. The way Miki glanced at Stevie in nervous anticipation, the way Stevie’s forehead furrowed slightly, the way he looked away. For once, Xabi saw Stevie hesitate, and it wasn’t under the guise of acting coolly indifferent.

It wasn’t like Stevie didn’t want to go with Xabi. There was only one other person he could have been thinking of bringing. The question was, could he say that to Xabi’s face?

He couldn’t.

“Of course,” Stevie said, his smile was roguish and Xabi was briefly reminded of why the Scouser was his best talent. “I’ll pick you up.”

*

Mikel shouldn’t really be angry at Stevie. He was just a pawn in Xabi’s game too. But still – he never liked the man. He didn’t feel like taking the extra effort to be generous to him and offer him his sympathy. Why should he bother for an arrogant dickhead who slept his way to the top?

He banged the drawers as he looked for his stapler, his patience starting to wear thin when he couldn’t find it.

“Fuck!” Mikel growled, as he tossed aside folders and stacks of paper to find the goddamed stapler. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Stevie asked.

Mikel glared at the star who was sitting in the couch near his desk. “Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be fucking some crazed little fanboy of yours?”

“Ah, crazed little fanboys, yes. You should know that role, huh?”

Mikel scowled, “Fuck off.” He took a heavy folder of files and dropped it on the floor in frustration. Please dear god, he hoped he wouldn’t have to empty his entire desk just to find his –

Mikel found his stapler on his lap. He put it there earlier so he wouldn’t have a hard time finding it.

“Fucking bollocks!” Mikel half-screamed, taking the stapler and starting to staple everything in sight. He stapled his reports, his envelopes, his Post-Its. There was a strange comfort he took from the loud metallic banging of the stapler.

Fernando walked into the lounge and did a double-take when he saw Mikel attacking his files with a passion.

“Mikel, are you okay?” He asked cautiously.

Mikel stopped, mid-staple, and stared at Fernando with blazing eyes. “I’m fine,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Let him be,” Stevie said, patting the space next to him on the couch. The Spaniard settled beside him.

Mikel rolled his eyes and looked away. He was not in the mood to watch the two cosy up together. He busied himself with his work. But, his ears suddenly perked as Fernando murmured –

“Hey, Stevie, Fabio and Lucas were telling me the other day that there was going to be some party? Like, a company party?”

Mikel put down his pen and concentrated on listening in on the conversation.

Stevie sounded nervous when he answered. “Oh, yeah. Blacklisted’s throwing their anniversary party this weekend.”

“Okay. Um, I’m not really a big party person. Do I have to go?”

“Yeah, of course, you should. You’ve been doing so well. I’m sure the others would love to see you there.”

“I guess.” Fernando paused, “Are you going?”

Mikel had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out laughing.

Stevie stammered, “Uh, I… yeah.”

Fernando and Stevie both nodded at each other slowly, both not daring to mention the unasked question that hung between them.

Finally, Stevie just blurted out. “I have to go with Xabi.”

“Oh.” Fernando faked a laugh to dismiss the tension. “No problem.”

“No, it’s just that he wants me to accompany him to meet some people. Sponsors, I think, and distributors and commercial partners.” Stevie blathered on, feeling compelled to explain and to give a lie as an explanation. “He said he needed to present one of the actors, so I guess he chose me. It’s just work, you know?” 

Mikel couldn’t take it anymore.

“You do know that’s bullshit, right?” Mikel peered at Fernando from over his files. “And if you didn’t, now you know.”

“What?”

“Why the fuck are you even butting into our conversation?” Stevie groaned in exasperation.

“If you didn’t want me to fucking overhear your sweet little nothings, stop meeting up in front of my fucking desk!” Mikel exploded.

Fernando and Stevie recoiled in shock. Mikel looked positively livid. “Scram!”

Fernando immediately jumped to his feet.

Stevie tried to stop him, “Hey, wait, where are you going? Ignore this little runt.”

Fernando eyed Mikel and Stevie, “It’s okay, I have to run anyway. I have to get back to class.”

Stevie looked disappointed, “Okay. Do you wanna meet up later?”

“Maybe not. It’s my turn to do the groceries tonight.”

Stevie hesitated, “But you’re still going to the party, right?”

“Yeah,” Fernando waved off Stevie’s concern. “Fabio and Lucas invited me to go with them anyway.”

Mikel had to snicker. He could already imagine the Brazilians fawning over Fernando.

The moment Fernando left, Stevie was already rounding in on Mikel. He crouched down low over his desk so he could look at the Basque eye to eye. He hissed, “What the fuck is your fucking problem?”

Mikel wasn’t fazed at all. He just blinked innocently, “You were playing the poor boy for a fool. Is it wrong for me to want to help him out?”

Stevie snarled. “Why do you even fucking care? Aren’t you with Xabi’s brother or something?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you don’t have to get your pretty little panties in a bunch just because I’m going out with Xabi.”

Mikel gaped at the Scouser. A wicked grin spread on Stevie’s face. “Unless, you like getting fucked by both Alonso brothers.”

“This is insane.”

“You fucking slut.”

“Excuse me, you fuck everyone in this building!” Mikel yelled in frustration.

Stevie snickered. “I wouldn’t fuck you.”

“Oh, that is it!” Mikel slammed his palms on the desk and stood up. He didn’t know what he was going to do – he wanted to deck the stupid Scouser, but Stevie was thrice his size.

Xabi’s door swung open and he stepped out, bellowing, “Shut up!”

Stevie and Mikel froze.

“Jesus Christ! When are you two going to stop going at each other?” Xabi demanded. He pointed his finger at Stevie, “You. Wait in the boardroom.” He pointed at Mikel, “You, get back to work, goddammit.”

Stevie and Mikel continued glaring at each other, but they both wouldn’t dare disobey Xabi’s orders.

Xabi rubbed his temples. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. “I don’t know why no one believes me when I say running this company is like running a fucking daycare.”

*

It was rare for Sergio to enter Fernando’s room – all of the times he did, though, was just so he could insult Fernando to his face.

This was one of those times. 

“Is this yours?” Sergio accused, holding up a black plastic bag.

Fernando looked up from his video game. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I must have left it in the kitchen last night.”

Sergio didn’t return the bag just yet. “Since when did you shop in Calvin Klein?”

Fernando paled. “Uh. Since yesterday?”

“You can afford Calvin Klein? No, wait, you know what Calvin Klein is?” Sergio demanded, his voices getting more shrilly with each question he fired.

Fernando scrambled to his feet to try to get the bag from Sergio. “I got my first paycheck yesterday. I just wanted to buy something nice.”

“How much do you even get from Burger King anyway?” Sergio asked, dodging Fernando. He emptied the bag and held up the jeans that were inside. He laughed humourlessly, “You. _You_ can afford Calvin Klein jeans.”

“They were on sale?” Fernando supplied.

“Still,” Sergio scoffed, inspecting the jeans.

“Remember the office party I was telling you about?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Fernando frowned. “Well, there, I have an office party, and I just needed something to wear.”

“That’s actually a brilliant idea since you have god-awful clothes.”

Fernando sighed. “Come on, just give me my clothes so you can leave.”

Sergio tossed the jeans at his roommate. “This look was so two seasons ago anyway.”

*

This felt like an episode of Gossip Girl.

Fernando didn’t watch that godforsaken show, but Sergio watched it avidly enough for Fernando to at least know the basics. Sergio always turned up the volume to the highest notch whenever the show was on. Fernando had to bear listening to the bad dialogue every time he was doing the dishes.

Fernando figured he was the lonely boy. The sad, witless character who was pining for the winsome it-guy who was naturally paired off with the most powerful man in these social circles. And so he had nobody to hang out with but his foot soldiers from Brooklyn who wore too much eyeliner. And everything would come to a head tonight in a fancy-dress party.

Fernando sighed and tried to listen in on what Fabio and Lucas were saying. They were still people-watching, it turned out.

“This girl,” Fabio was saying, discreetly nodding to a statuesque beauty walking their way. “This girl!”

“I like her dress,” Lucas said.

Fabio’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t like her face.”

“Why not? She’s pretty.”

“Her face is so two seasons ago.”

“Wow, Fabio, it’s not like everyone can just suddenly get their faces changed.”

Fabio burst out laughing. “Uh-huh, right. Janine from Marketing got a nose job last month and she looks amazing.”

“She’s going to look like Michael Jackson when she’s 60 and everything’s sagging.”

“You don’t need boys when you’re 60. You need boys now. I say it’s a fair gamble.”

Fernando sighed, pushing away from their cocktail table. “Hey, guys, I’ll just take a leak.”

Lucas waved at him, “Okay, but hurry back. The program’s about to start.”

That made Fernando drag his feet even more. He thought this party would be fun. The food was great, the drinks were free-flowing and the music was infectious. But he didn’t know anyone here, and the Brazilians weren’t exactly titillating Fernando with their conversations.

‘Thirty minutes,’ he told himself. ‘Thirty minutes, and I’m leaving.’

He bumped into Mikel, who was working by the registration tables.

“You came,” Mikel said.

“Yeah, I wanted to check out the party.”

“Is it worth it?”

Fernando smiled, “I don’t usually have plans during weekends anyway, so it’s okay.”

“Is it worth it, if you have to see that?” Mikel asked, nodding towards the door.

Stevie and Xabi had just arrived, and they swept into the room fashionably late. Stevie looked gorgeous and Xabi even more so, and they looked absolutely amazing together. The crowd immediately parted to let them pass.

Fernando gulped. He spun on his heel and scampered down the opposite direction. He refused to be part of the adoring crowd surrounding Xabi and Stevie.

Thankfully, there was a bar on the other end of the room. It wasn’t as big as the main bar by the dancefloor, but it had fewer people and shorter lines.

“Just an iced tea, please,” he told the bartender. The man stared at him in disbelief, before pouring him a glass.

“Well, well, thank god I’m not the only one who didn’t dress up for the party.”

Fernando turned around and saw Daniel Agger striding up to him. His jeans were ratty and his black t-shirt was all stretched out, it hung off his lean frame. The only sign that Daniel actually made an effort for this party was the thick leather cuff on his wrist.

“Hey,” Fernando squeaked. He didn’t really know why Daniel was talking to him. The last time didn’t end so well. Not when Daniel forced himself on Fernando, partly terrifying the new boy – partly tempting him as well.

“Nice jeans,” Dan remarked.

Fernando blushed. “Thanks, they’re Calvin Klein,” he babbled.

Daniel nodded slowly, “Oh, really? I can check the label for myself later when I take your jeans off.”

Fernando choked on his iced tea, making Dan snicker. He called the bartender by just a lazy lift of his fingers.

“Scotch, on the rocks.”

“Just for you?” The bartender asked, as if he could already read the tension between Dan and Fernando.

Dan glanced at the Spaniard. Fernando raise d his glass of iced tea, “I’m good.”

Dan nodded at the bartender, “For two.”

Fernando watched warily as the bartender liberally poured scotch into a glass. He wondered if it was rude to walk out on Daniel and snub the drink offered to him.

Dan must have sensed his hesitation because he took a step closer to Fernando and tried to strike up a conversation to keep him from running away.

“Aren’t you supposed to be there?” Dan pointed to the middle of the dance floor. “Aren’t you supposed to be mingling with your adoring public?”

Fernando flushed a deep red. He tried to sound confident, “What, are you telling me to leave already?”

Dan smiled, pleasantly surprised at Fernando’s verve. “If you wanted to leave, you would have left earlier. So, tell me, why are you still here?”

Fernando opened his mouth, as if to speak. Then he hesitated and just slurped noisily at his iced tea again.

On the stage, Xabi took the mic and welcomed the employees to the company party. Stevie stood dutifully behind him, clapping in support. Daniel observed the pair for a second, before glancing at Fernando who was determined not to react.

“I see,” Dan said.

“What?” Fernando blinked innocently.

The bartender arrived with their drinks, and even at an arm’s length away, Fernando could smell the alcohol.

“Go on,” Dan urged, raising his glass to Fernando.

The Spaniard reluctantly clinked his glass against Dan’s. Then, he took a small sip. He immediately felt his body revolting against the taste, and he had to take a deep breath so he wouldn’t spit it out.

“Attractive,” Dan laughed, and for once it wasn’t mocking. He just looked like he was actually, genuinely… laughing at Fernando. When you come to think of it, that wasn’t so endearing, but it was new for Fernando to actually see the Daniel underneath the layer of cool.

“I can’t drink this,” Fernando said, but even then, he tried to sip again. He was largely more successful now. He took two, three more gulps and it didn’t taste as bad.

“You know, they say you can tell a lot about a person based on their drink.”

Fernando snickered. That sounded like a bad pick-up line. He patronised it, though. “So, why’d you order me this drink then?”

Dan shrugged. “I figured you’d want something simple, ruthless.” He swirled the ice in his glass, adding, “Dirty.”

A blush rose to Fernando’s cheeks again. “Oh, really? You didn’t think I’d want something fruity? Preferably in pink or orange? With a little umbrella on top?” He joked lamely.

Daniel wasn’t fazed. He just continued staring at Fernando – the Spaniard could see the wheels turning in Daniel’s brain. What he was thinking, though, he couldn’t quite tell.

“You don’t fool me, you know,” Dan said.

“Excuse me?”

“People think you’re this pretty little thing, don’t they? Like they want to take care of you, shine you up, put you on their mantle?”

Fernando didn’t dare speak. He drank his scotch instead – it really was tasting better now. Sweet, heady.

“They could be right, of course,” Daniel shrugged cockily. “But everyone needs to be used up everyone in a while.”

Used up. Those words sent shivers down Fernando’s spine.

“So, what are you gonna do about it?” He found himself asking.

Daniel smiled again. A wide, knowing smile breathed against the rim of his glass. He finished his drink.

The song that was playing overhead was hypnotising. All dreamy rhythms and a thin, husky voice. The dancing slowed and people weren’t jumping now. The movements weren’t manic. They were slow and drunken and sensual.

_Prophet 60091. Before we start, you should know you’re not the only one. Who can hurt me._

The song was moaning. It set Fernando in a trance.

_SH10151. You better be sure before you leave me for another one._

It was such a senseless song. The lines didn’t mean anything. The artist was barely singing. And yet Fernando’s throat was parched, and gulping didn’t help, so he found himself swigging scotch again.

_You can hurt me._

“Fernando?”

_I can hurt you._

“Fernando?”

The Spaniard snapped out of his daze. “Yes?”

“Your place or mine?” Dan sounded like he was repeating the question, but Fernando didn’t hear the first one. He was too lost in his thoughts.

“Yours,” Fernando croaked. “My roommate’s probably home and it might get awkward for us and – ”

“Fine,” Dan interrupted.

Fernando had wondered all throughout the night about Dan’s newfound pleasantness. He still wasn’t a pocketful of sunshine, but he was definitely more agreeable now. But times like these, Dan reminded him that he was still an ass.

Not that Fernando cared about Dan’s _personality_ at this point.

“You want another drink?” Dan asked, studying Fernando’s pallid face, “One for the road?”

“Yes, please.”

They finished their next round of drinks. Fernando’s fingers trembled as he returned the glass to the bartender and Daniel paid for the both of them. He was shifty, he was anxious, he was excited. He didn’t know at what point in this night he became horny, but by god he was.

They bumped into Mikel by the door, and the Basque immediately shot Fernando a stern look.

“Where are you going?” He demanded.

Dan glanced at Fernando over his shoulder. “I’ll let you handle this. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Mikel watched the Dane leave with suspicious, narrowed eyes. Then, he raised his eyebrow at Fernando.

Fernando shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “We’re just gonna go ahead.”

“Oh?”

““We’re just going to… It’s not… Just, don’t tell anyone.”

Mikel asked, “And what about your award? I’m sure you and Stevie are going to win best picture or best couple or something.”

Fernando looked over at the stage where Xabi was currently announcing the nominees for the night’s awarding.

“I’m sure Stevie can handle it without me,” he said. With that, he waved goodbye and quickly disappeared out the door.

Mikel returned to his seat at the registration table, smirking and self-satisfied.

“Oh, I cannot wait for the gossip on Monday.”

*

By the time Fernando made his way out of the club, Daniel was already waiting by the curb with a gleaming, black and silver BMW motorcycle. Daniel was a tall boy, but the machine still looked huge and intimidating beside him.

Dan, who’s always been a fan of motorcycles, was used to that stunned and turned-on reaction every time boys and girls saw his ride for the first time. He revved the engine to tease Fernando even more. It purred powerfully.

“Well?” Dan asked, holding up an extra helmet.

Fernando bit his lip. His mother set down three commandments when Fernando moved out of their house: no teenage pregnancies, no drugs, no motorcycles.

Fernando hadn’t impregnated any girls yet, and he wasn’t planning on doing that any time soon. He hadn’t done drugs either.

Maybe one out of three wasn’t so bad.

“I’m ready,” Fernando said, taking the helmet. He straddled the bike behind Daniel and shifted around to find his balance. Tentatively, he placed his hands on Daniel’s hips – that was what he was supposed to do, right?

Daniel smirked and pulled Fernando’s arms firmly around his waist. “You need to hold on tight.”

Fernando was getting nervous now. “I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before. Anything I should now?”

Daniel grinned at the Spaniard through his side mirror. “Baby, all you need to know is that it’s fast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song playing in the party is "2Wicky" by Hooverphonic.


	10. It ain't trickin' if you got it

It turned out the motorcycle ride was, indeed, fast. Exhilirating. When Fernando wasn’t thinking he was going to die, he actually felt alive.

Daniel, for his part, was a good driver. But he could sense little tricks here and there – a sharp turn, a sudden start, a brake two seconds too late. Fernando grinned to himself. Someone was trying to be impressive.

He rewarded Daniel with a quick squeeze on the thigh. He felt the motorcycle wobble unsteadily for a split-second as he took Daniel by surprise.

With their helmets on, Fernando wouldn’t hear Daniel if ever he said anything. But he did see Daniel turn his head slightly so he could glance at Fernando over his shoulder.

Daniel parked quickly, but carefully. He loved his motorcycle too much. He removed his and Fernando’s helmets, killed the ignition properly and threw a cover over the bike.

The moment he was done with his ritual, though, he slammed Fernando against the car parked next to them. Fernando’s back thudded loudly against the SUV’s shell exterior. Fernando hummed in appreciation.

“Yeah, you like that?” Daniel was already panting. He kissed Fernando hard and let his hands roam underneath his shirt. Fernando tugged him closer so that Daniel was practically resting on Fernando resting on the car.

“You know what, a good bitch makes sure his man his hard and ready for a fuck,” Dan said, looking Fernando straight in the eye.

Fernando wasn’t used to those kinds of words, but he dutifully spat in his hand and took out Daniel’s cock, so he guessed that he liked it.

Daniel ripped open Fernando’s jeans too. He shoved his hand inside Fernando’s briefs and with a dry finger, started fondling with his hole. Fernando winced. He didn’t like dry penetration, but –

“Fuck!” Fernando shouted as Dan pushed one finger inside him. It burned. But he didn’t even have time to focus on the pain because Dan was already finger-fucking him. Just slamming his finger in there like it was his cock, and Fernando rode it like it was one. It was thin and barely invasive, but it still felt so good to have something inside his ass, squirming around as if it was trying to get to know the space.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Dan said. He didn’t bother to zip up his jeans, just pulled his t-shirt over his cock. Thankfully, no one caught them as they piled into the elevator.

Daniel’s place definitely wasn’t as grand or as ornate as Stevie’s. It was still lush, though. Spacious and smack dab in the city centre, so it probably cost just as much. But it looked more lived in, more worn out.

A pile of Chucks and boots were lined up by the hallway. A stack of vinyl records were scattered over the coffee table, as if Daniel had been arranging them and then lost interest halfway. Bright purple headphones hung on the doorknob to the bedroom.

“Nice,” Fernando said.

Daniel was already stripping, tossing his jacket, shirt and then jeans in the laundry basket. Fernando’s eyes raked over that long, pale, freckled body.

“Nice,” he said again.

Dan settled on the edge of his bed, and with a soft but stern order – “suck me off” – Fernando knelt down on the floor in front of Dan and took his cock into his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Dan consistently urged Fernando on, stroking his hair as if he were a pet. He rolled his hips upwards in small circles. “Good boy. Suck that cock.”

Fernando mewled obediently and pushed his head down further. He could feel the head of Dan’s cock hitting the back of his throat. His alarm bells were going off – he couldn’t breathe and his gag reflex was starting to work up. But Fernando just closed his eyes, breathed through his nose and then slid Dan’s member all the way in. 

Dan let out a strangled yell. “Fuck!” He continued stroking Fernando’s stringy blonde hair, twirling it around his fingers and yanking at them every time he thrust forward. “Yeah, baby, all the way down your throat. That’s it.”

Fernando bobbed his head frantically, hummed all around him, and it sent all sorts of fantastic sensations through Daniel. It vibrated from his groin and set his nerves on fire until even his fingers, his toes, the ends of his hair were tingling.

Everything felt so wet and slick around Daniel’s cock, he couldn’t tell if he was leaking pre-cum already. It almost took him by surprise that he came. Fernando coughed and cum spilled messily from the corners of his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

Fernando sat back on his haunches, trying to catch his breath. He looked just as tired as Daniel, almost as if he had –

“Did you come?” Dan demanded. He stared incredulously at the Spaniard’s cum-spattered thighs.

Fernando glanced down too, then glanced up with a guilty smile.

“I don’t know why – I don’t usually…”

Daniel smirked, pulling Fernando to his feet so he could take a long, good look at him.

“You came,” he pointed out with a wide grin. It wasn’t that he was short on confidence – especially not in bed – but it still gave him a surge of power knowing he could make Fernando come without even touching him.

“I was just touching myself, I didn’t think – ” Fernando continued stammering, embarrassed. The tips of his ears were pink.

Dan beckoned Fernando over to the bed with him, and then he kissed the boy thoroughly. His tongue still tasted salty.

“Maybe you have a lot of pent-up frustration?” Daniel asked when they broke apart. He reached down to stroke Fernando’s cock. It was still half-hard. “Or maybe you just get off at the idea that you’re a good, little cocksucker?”

Fernando buried his face in Daniel’s neck and he moaned. He took hold of Daniel’s member too. They slowly stroked each other back to hardness.

“Now that the first load’s out of the way, I can fuck you all night,” Dan whispered to Fernando’s ear. He felt the boy shiver against him.

“You think you can last that long?” Daniel asked again. He let his hand travel further down until he could reach around Fernando. He rubbed his thumb along Fernando’s entrance. Its pucker was wound so tight. It gave Daniel a delicious thrill of excitement. He could already imagine breaking through that resistance, feeling it closing in around him so, so tightly.

“Let’s do this,” Fernando nodded.

Daniel lay him down on the bed. “Okay, hold on. Let me just get… supplies.”

Fernando giggled. He laid back against the pillows and pulled a blanket over his naked form, watching Daniel rummage around his desk for condoms and a tube of lube.

Right here, right now, he wasn’t thinking about anything else. Not the party, not his homework for Monday, not Sergio or Stevie or Xabi or Mikel. He didn’t feel drunk or horny or vengeful. He just felt utterly _wanting_.

A violent shudder ran through him – he didn’t notice that Dan had already begun sliding in a finger inside his entrance. This was always one of Fernando’s favourite parts of sex. He loved the easy, slippery feeling of slim fingers entering him. He loved feeling probed, prepared.

Daniel stretched his fingers inside Fernando, opened and closed them in scissor-like motions and then wriggled them hard – 

“Fuck!” Fernando yelled as the vibrations wracked through his core.

His body arched up to meet Dan’s fingers, and when Daniel pushed in particularly deep, Fernando thrust up so sharply that his weight practically rested on his feet and shoulders.

“That’s enough,” Dan said, pulling out his fingers and wiping his hand on the sheets. “On all fours,” he directed.

Fernando was still dazed and lagged a half-second.

“I said, on all fours,” Dan barked louder. He hauled Fernando up by his shoulders. The Spaniard scrambled to take his position.

His heart thudded against his ribcage. Daniel was scaring him. He knew the Dane wouldn’t do anything to hurt him. But at the same time, he wasn’t so sure. When he thought back on it, Daniel was almost a stranger to him. They were barely acquaintances.

And yet, here he was, at the home of a complete stranger. Who knew what the other man could do to him?

Daniel gripped his hips. Fernando braced himself.

Dan didn’t even slip. He just placed the head of his cock against Fernando’s entrance and pushed in steadily. It slid in without a hitch. Once the head was completely in, Daniel paused.

Fernando exhaled. His body started to unclench now, the tension melting off his muscles. It was replaced by a sense of overwhelming sensation. Like his skin was on fire and the sweat that was starting to cover it only made him even more feverish.

Dan’s grip on his hips tightened, a signal that he was pushing in again. Daniel pushed in his cock. It was one fluid movement, but it was slow. So, so slow, “to make you feel every inch of me going inside you,” Daniel whispered.

The second Daniel was all the way inside, he began pulling out with the same agonisingly unhurried pace. Fernando moaned as he felt the cock moving in him.

“Faster, please, Daniel,” Fernando panted. But no matter how he pleaded, Daniel just kept on fucking him in long, slow strokes. It got Fernando so worked up. It seemed to go on forever.

Finally, Daniel stopped and pulled out. Fernando looked around him, catching the Dane wiping the sweat off his face.

“Tired?” Fernando teased.

Dan just smirked. “Why don’t you let daddy take a quick breather, huh?” He plopped down on the bed beside Fernando, his cock sticking straight up.

Fernando licked his lips. He stroked Dan’s belly teasingly, “Will you let me…?” He trailed off, then let his gaze flicker to Dan’s erection.

Daniel grinned. “Help yourself.”

Fernando couldn’t straddle Daniel fast enough. And god, he wished he had a camera just so he could take a photo of Dan’s expression when Fernando sank himself on his cock.

“Fucking hell,” Dan moaned softly as he watched Fernando. Fernando with his innocent face and his coy expression biting his lip, while at the same time, his hips moved expertly as he rode Daniel.

“Where did you learn this?” Dan asked.

Fernando was too aroused to muster a full smile. “Maybe I’m a natural.”

“I knew it,” Dan snickered. “You aren’t half as proper as you would have people believe.”

Fernando gazed at Daniel underneath his thick lashes. “Well, it’s just like you said. Everyone needs to be used up once in a while.”

Dan’s gaze darkened with lust. He reached out to stroke Fernando’s weeping cock. The Spaniard mewled appreciatively.

“You’re just a little cockslut, aren’t you?” Dan taunted, tugging at Fernando’s member roughly.

Fernando’s only response was to thrust his hips harder so he could meet Daniel’s touch.

“Aren’t you?” Dan demanded louder.

“Yes!” Fernando moaned. “Yes, yes, yes.” He cried out deliriously. Now he was bouncing on top of the younger boy, fucking himself on Daniel’s cock. Daniel could do nothing but watch the way his hard-on disappeared so easily into Fernando.

Fernando came without warning in Daniel’s hand. Dan saw the way the Fernando’s body slumped and his movements slackened as the Spaniard tried to catch his breath.

Dan reached up and tucked Fernando’s hair behind his ear. Fernando smiled up at him tiredly.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

Dan smiled. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Fernando smiled back. “Baby?”

“Yeah?”

Fernando ran his finger along Dan’s moist bottom lip. “I didn’t say I was gonna.”

*

“Hey, Mikel,” Stevie said.

Mikel pretended to be busy reading the label of the wine bottle he was drinking from.

“Hey,” Stevie said louder so he could be heard over the music. He laid a heavy hand on the Basque’s shoulders.

Mikel shrugged him off, “Excuse me, why are you talking to me?”

“Jeez, you’re touchy. I just wanted to ask whether you saw Fernando.”

Stevie didn’t miss the wicked smile that spread on Mikel’s face.

“Why don’t you ask someone else?” Mikel snapped.

“Because you’re the biggest gossip-hound in the office, and you know everybody’s business.”

Mikel smiled smugly. “That is true.”

Stevie huffed. “So, where is he?”

Mikel took a long drink from the wine bottle. He didn’t care that Stevie was watching him impatiently. The wine trickled from the corner of his lips and dripped on his shirt. That was surely going to leave a stain tomorrow.

Mikel swallowed and licked his lips. “Well, Fernando left early.”

“Details, Arteta.”

Mikel’s eyebrows rose. How demanding. And to think Stevie only wanted to know Fernando’s _whereabouts_. Could it be that Xabi’s hunch was right? Was Stevie actually smitten with the new kid?

Mikel snickered. That would make this twice as fun.

“I saw Fernando leave just a few minutes before the awarding started. I asked him if he wanted to stay to receive the award that you two would – unfortunately – inevitably win.” Mikel swirled the wine inside the bottle like he was swirling wine in a goblet. “But he just made some comment about how you were with Xabi anyway, you wouldn’t need him.”

Stevie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe he’s all worked up about Xabi _again_.”

Mikel laid it on thick, “Yeah, aren’t you two together already? Because he looked really, really jealous.”

“No. I don’t even know if you could call us ‘dating,’” Stevie said, shaking his head. “My god, that boy and his romantic ideals.”

“Are you going to look for him? I’m sure he’s just at home or something, waiting for your text or call,” Mikel faked a sweet smile.

Stevie bought it enough to grumble, “I was thinking of catching up with him, but I’m not in the mood anymore.”

Mikel pouted, “Aw, that’s too bad.”

Stevie sighed. “Anyway, thanks for the help. I’m surprised you’d actually share gossip with me, since you basically despise me.”

Mikel gave the Scouser a steely grin, “Well, first, I take pride in my reputation as the go-to person for all the inside scoops in the office. And second,” Mikel chugged down some merlot again, “I’ve had too much to drink.”

Stevie snorted, “Yeah, okay. Whatever.” He was already walking away when he added, “By the way, Fernando left by himself earlier?”

 _Oh, so Stevie did have some iota of brain power_ , Mikel thought. But it was easy to lie through his teeth: “When I saw him, he was leaving alone.”

Which wasn’t exactly a lie. Fernando was alone when Mikel saw him – after all, Daniel waited for him outside on his sex machine, i.e. motorbike.

“Okay, that’s good,” Stevie said.

“I’m not sure about the details though. It’s a little hazy to me, I’ve been drinking,” Mikel said. “I’m sure you can just ask Fernando yourself on Monday.”

Stevie nodded. “Sure, will do.”

*

Daniel had nothing on Stevie in terms of size. Stevie was easily had the thickest, biggest cock Fernando’s seen in his life. But what Daniel didn’t have in girth, he definitely made up for in skill.

Apparently, Daniel had recharged already, and it was about bloody time since Fernando’s haunches were burning from fucking Daniel in cowboy-position.

Dan sat up abruptly and gripped Fernando by the hips. And with one not-too-fluid movement, he flipped Fernando down on the bed roughly. All the while, he kept himself sheathed inside the Spaniard.

“My turn,” he said. He pressed Fernando’s left leg flat on its side against the mattress, and then held Fernando’s right leg up, hooking it over his shoulder. Daniel fucked him with wild abandon.

Fernando was too exhausted, too aroused, too parched, too high to notice every second of their intercourse. At this point, it all just blurred together. All he knew was that Daniel was bent over him, touching him, touching himself. The rhythm of his hips was remarkably steady, even if Fernando could see that Dan was slowly beginning to unravel at the seams.

Fernando didn’t want to jerk off anymore – his cock felt so sensitive from overstimulation. But he was still hard and aching for relief. He ran his hands over his neck, over his chest and his stomach deliriously.

“You’re my little bitch,” Dan panted to Fernando’s ear.

Fernando mewled in agreement, hands finally settling on Dan’s hips so he could pull him in deeper.

This wasn’t usually Fernando’s thing, but when Daniel said he’d use Fernando – it scared Fernando, but he took it as a promise as well. He was holding Daniel to that.

Dan was pushing him to the edge. Sure, Fernando and Stevie had done it multiple times, but only two consecutive rounds at most. Usually, they had a shower or a long nap in between each go.

But Daniel wasn’t giving Fernando a moment to breathe here. It frayed Fernando at the edges. His muscles screamed in pain, his ass was sore and his cock was raw. The more Daniel fucked him, the more he wanted him to stop and the more he wanted him to go on so that he could find out just how far he could go.

He was so tired and fucked thoroughly, his brain had shut off. Fernando wasn’t thinking anymore. He was just acting, and that was liberating.

“Come for me already,” Fernando’s voice cracked in need.

Dan grinned and shook his head, giving Fernando’s erection a good, hard squeeze. The Spaniard slapped his hands away in annoyance, “Don’t touch me!” Fernando shut his eyes, “Christ fuck, if you touch me, I’m gonna come, and I swear to god, I am going to pass out.”

Dan stopped just to throw back his head and laugh heartily. Fernando pouted up at him.

“How can you even last this long?”

Dan thrust forward emphatically. “All the better to pleasure you with, my dear.”

“Well, consider me pleasured,” Fernando said impatiently. He tugged Dan forward by the scruff of his neck so he could glower straight into his eyes. “I want you to come in me.”

Dan kissed Fernando, driving his tongue deep into his mouth.

“All I want is simple,” Daniel said, his hips pistoning in and out of Fernando in quick, sharp jabs now. “I want you to remember this, even when you’re having sex with Stevie already – ”

Fernando pressed his finger against Dan’s lips to cut him off. “Having sex with… who?” He asked in feigned confusion, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Dan didn’t know who was more foolish – Fernando for saying that, or him for believing it. But, he let himself come after that, so he figured maybe he was the idiot.

“Fuck!” He growled, the pleasure ripping through his system when he exploded. He kept moving, sliding his cock in and out of Fernando’s ass, even as he rode out his orgasm. It kept him coming endlessly. It must have been at least three or four loads.

Even when he pulled out of Fernando after, a thin rope of cum still dripped from the head of his cock. Fernando and Dan both watched as it slowly, stickily fell onto the Spaniard’s thigh.

“Sorry,” Daniel smirked.

Fernando could barely keep his gaze focused as he reached down to rub the cum into his skin. Dan raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Can’t let that go to waste, can I?” Fernando blinked up at him like an obedient puppy seeking approval.

Dan smiled. “I like you already.”

*

Gago looked up from his algebra book. Sergio kept glancing at the door to Fernando’s bedroom. It was distracting him. But then again, he was looking for every reason to take a break from studying algebra, and Sergio looked like he had a good deal of gossip on him.

“What’s up?” Gago asked, and he didn’t even have to explain.

Sergio rubbed his chin. “Fernando’s hiding something.”

“Spill.”

“He didn’t come home last night.”

Gago’s eyebrows practically disappeared into his hairline. “No way. What was his reason?”

“He said he had an ‘office party,’ and he got too drunk to go home so he just crashed at a friend’s place.”

“That’s possible.”

Sergio continued, “I was already having breakfast by the time he arrived. That was around 11 already. He looked knackered. He went into his room and went back to sleep. He hasn’t come out since.”

Gago’s eyes twinkled. “Ooh. You think he’s having sex already?”

“I can’t really imagine anyone wanting to have sex with him, but stranger things have happened.”

“You think it’s Stevie?”

Sergio shrugged with forced nonchalance. “Who else could it be? He’s been visiting Fernando every week.”

“Have you noticed them do anything fishy?”

“No. Stevie usually just picks him up and they go out. When Stevie does stay here, they stay in Fernando’s room – and no, I don’t hear any suspicious sounds through the door.” Sergio threw in a scoff for good measure. “Not that I pay much attention to them, though.”

Gago thought about it and then cracked up. “I wonder how they have sex. You think Fernando lets Stevie go all the way?”

Sergio laughed too. “Maybe they just jack each other off.”

“No. Maybe they just dry-hump!”

“Holy shit, dry-humping. I think I was in middle school the last time I did that.”

Gago pulled Sergio into his arms and nuzzled his face into the Sevillan’s neck. “Come to think of it, dry-humping doesn’t sound that bad.”

Sergio giggled, throwing his legs around Gago so he could grind against him. “This is so,” his breath hitched a little, “Conservative. I love it.”

The ringing doorbell interrupted them, though.

Sergio pulled away from Gago a little. “Let me just get that.”

But Gago kissed him deeply before he let him go. “Don’t take too long, babe.”

Sergio was grinning like a fool when he bounded to the door. He didn’t even bother checking in the peephole who the visitor was.

“Yes?” He asked, throwing open the door.

Stevie stood at his doorstep, looking completely unaffected as usual. “Hey. Is Fernando there?”

Sergio shrugged. “He’s here, but he’s still in bed.”

Stevie raised an eyebrow and glanced at the chunky Rolex on his wrist. “It’s past noon already. He’s still asleep?”

“Well, don’t look at me. You’re the one who brought him home so late.”

Stevie looked up distractedly. “Excuse me?”

“Didn’t you guys have a big office party or something?” Sergio rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but Fernando didn’t really go _that_ crazy.”

“Well, he has the alcohol tolerance of a fly, so.” Sergio motioned to Fernando’s bedroom. “He’s still practically comatose.”

“Great.”

“You can wait here if you want.” Sergio batted his eyelashes, “We’ll keep you company.”

Stevie peeked inside and Gago was there in the couch looking positively mischievous.

“Uh, no thanks. I’ll just come back.”

“Toodles!”

“Tell Fernando I dropped by, please.”

Sergio was already shutting the door, “Maybe!”

*

When Stevie arrived at work that Monday, something was not right.

He was used to people staring at him, people talking about him – he heard their murmurs when he walked by. He was the man in Blacklisted (after Xabi, of course). He always got attention.

But today, the attention seemed different.

Stevie whirled around. Two staff members were giggling between themselves. The nerve! _Staff members._ What kind of low-life members of society entered porn companies to work in the _backroom_ anyway? Irrelevant people like Mikel Arteta, that was for sure.

And speaking of Mikel Arteta – he would surely know what was going on.

“Arteta, my one and only gossip girl,” Stevie greeted as he entered the executive wing. “What’s the scoop today?”

Mikel looked up from his planner and grinned brilliantly, “Well, I heard you’re the scoop.”

“Ah, what’s new?”

“True. You fuck everyone in this office precisely to get everyone talking about you,” Mikel said with dripping saccharine.

Stevie rolled his eyes. “Ten seconds before the first jibe. You’re getting soft, Mikel.”

“You’re the one who approached me to ask for gossip,” Mikel shrugged. “I think I have the upper hand here, Mr Gerrard.”

“A mere technicality,” Stevie dimissed as he perched on Mikel’s desk, deliberately sitting on the assistant’s files and crinkling its sheets. Mikel growled and shoved Stevie a few inches so he could retrieve his papers before Stevie’s ass stank it up.

“So, tell me,” Stevie prodded.

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I’m not privy to _all_ the gossip here in the office?”

The Scouser snorted. “Yes.”

Mikel blinked innocently, “Look, I really don’t know, I’m sorry.”

Stevie sighed and stood up, “Fine, I’ll just pester somebody else.”

Mikel let Stevie walk about three to five yards away. Then, he laid out the bait.

“Oh – there is one thing I know.”

Stevie’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Yeah?”

“Well, the one thing I heard was that the rumours about you… aren’t about you,” Mikel said cryptically, but Stevie seemed to get it because his cheeks turned red.

Mikel smiled to himself. If there was one thing Stevie despised more than being talked about, it was not being talked about at all.

*

Ah, the Three Musketeers of Porn.

Stevie grinned to himself as he saw Pepe, Alvaro and Albert hanging out by the smokers’ section outside. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a shoot, so he hasn’t seen the three in a while.

“My three favourite Spaniards!” Stevie greeted, nicking Albert’s packet of cigarettes when his eyes were more crossed than usual.

Pepe snickered around his lit cigarette. “Lies. I think I know who your _real_ favourite Spaniard is.”

“Come on, guys,” Stevie only had to nod at Alvaro and the boy readily offered his lighter. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

Albert and Pepe shared a knowing glance.

“So, you mean today’s gossip isn’t credible either?” Albert asked.

“First, gossip is rarely credible. Depends who you got it from.”

“Arteta.” The three all answered together as if were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Dammit, I knew that little bitch was lying to me.”

“Why wouldn’t he wanna tell you?” Alvaro scratched his head.

Pepe glared at him. “Alvaro!”

“What?”

Stevie’s curiosity was piqued. “He told me the gossip wasn’t about me, so I didn’t bother asking for any more details.”

“Well, technically, that’s the truth.”

“Who’s it about?”

Pepe pretended to be busy with putting out his cigarette, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it three, four times, so by the time he stopped, the tar was all over the place.

Meanwhile, Albert and Alvaro kept nudging at each other.

“Just tell me, for crying out loud.” Stevie added silently to himself: _it can’t be that important if I’m not in it._

Albert finally offered: “Well, it’s about Fernando.”

“Yeah?” Stevie shook his head. “Please don’t tell me it’s about him being jealous when I went with Xabi to the anniversary party. We’re just sleeping around, I don’t understand why he needs me all of a sudden.”

Pepe barked a short laugh. “It looks like he doesn’t need you that much, then, because he’s seeing Daniel Agger.”

Stevie choked on his cigarette smoke. It burned at his throat and his nose, it made his eyes water. “Excuse me?” He spluttered out.

“Yeah, Daniel Agger.”

“Mikel saw them leaving together during the anniversary party.”

“He could be lying?” Stevie demanded as he tried to catch his breath from his coughing fit.

“Maybe, but Fabio was outside when they left and he confirmed that he saw them leaving on Daniel’s bike.”

 _God. Daniel Agger’s bike. His self-proclaimed sex machine._ Stevie rolled his eyes.

“He’s just doing this to piss me off.”

“Why would he do that?” Albert asked.

“Please. He hates me.”

“No, I mean, why would he sleep with Fernando to piss you off?” Albert asked again.

Alvaro burst out laughing. “Cos it’s clearly working.”

“I’m not pissed off!” Stevie yelped. “Besides, all we know is that they left together. Everything else is speculation.”

The three looked at each other unsurely before they began nodding in a show of support.

“Yeah, definitely,” Albert said. He was the most eager to please.

“Fernando doesn’t really seem like Daniel’s type anyway,” Alvaro chorused in.

Stevie regained his confidence and he shrugged haughtily. “For all we know, Fernando just hitched a ride home with Daniel, and that pathetic bastard’s just trying to make a big deal out of it.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Pepe said, clapping Stevie on the back. “It looks like you can find out for yourself,” he said, pointing to a figure walking up to the driveway of their office building.

It was Fernando, surely, and it immediately sent Stevie’s stomach churning anxiously. He excused himself from the three Spaniards, and jogged to meet Fernando by the entrance.

“Hey!” he called out.

Fernando waved at him but didn’t stop walking.

It dashed Stevie’s ego a little more, but he followed Fernando, struggling to keep in step with him. The moment they entered the office building, he knew everyone was looking at them. The murmurs started, busier and louder now.

“You’re early. Do you have a meeting?” Fernando asked politely.

“Yeah, Xabi said he needed to see me.”

“Oh,” the younger boy said bluntly.

“You?”

“Just picking up my paycheck, then I’m off to class.”

“You need a ride?”

“I thought you had a meeting,” Fernando pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. I can meet you after your class.”

Fernando huffed. “Maybe. I might have to go to the library, I didn’t get much studying done over the weekend. I’ll text you.”

This was the perfect segue – Stevie asked smoothly, “Why, what were you doing over the weekend?”

Fernando stopped walking and glanced at Stevie suspiciously.

Stevie shrugged, “I mean, you left the party early.”

“I just slept during the weekend.”

“Really? With who?” Stevie asked innocently.

Fernando glared at him.

“I just heard you made a new friend.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call Daniel Agger a ‘friend.’”

“Ah, so it is Daniel Agger.”

“So, the news really gets around here, huh.”

Stevie snorted. “Well, it’s not like you were exactly being discreet when you decided to go on a joyride with Daniel Agger on his little bike.”

Fernando’s jaw dropped. How much did people _know_? He tried to deflect the attention back to Stevie.

“Why are you even bitching on me? Didn’t you get a good fuck out of your date with Xabi?”

It was a good thing Fernando turned on his heel to stalk ahead of Stevie to the accounting office. He didn’t get to see Stevie’s stunned expression. Of course he hadn’t slept with Xabi. In fact, it’s been a long time since he had. That night at the party, he accepted their awards by himself, disappointed that Fernando had ditched him. And when Lucas and Fabio told him that Fernando left early, Stevie actually let himself feel guilty.

Now, he just felt like such a bloody idiot feeling concerned about a boy who replaced him with – ugh – Daniel Agger, no less.

“You know what, fine.” Stevie called out to Fernando, who was a few yards ahead of him. “If you want a pity fuck from Daniel Agger, that’s fine.”

He knew at this volume, people could hear them, but hey, people were already talking about them anyway. Might as well give them something to talk about.

Fernando looked furious even from far away.

“Look, I will have you know that – ”

“That I’m bigger than him?” Stevie supplied. “I know. I’ve seen the videos.”

Fernando’s face was as red as a tomato. The other employees in the area watched them unabashedly.

“It’s not about – ”

“Oh, please. It’s not about how big you are, it’s how you use it? Only guys with small dicks – or guys who get fucked by small dicks – say that.” A ripple of snickers went around the small crowd that watched them. Stevie added, “And, it’s not like there’s anything Daniel can do that I don’t do better.”

Fernando was practically shaking. He pointed at Stevie with a finger and threatened, “Don’t you ever call me again.”

But the Scouser just laughed airily, “From what I remember, you’re the one who keeps calling me, princess.”

Fernando stared in disbelief as Stevie turned around to leave. The people immediately parted for him, the murmuring elevated to a deafening buzz now.

Stevie smiled smugly. He wasn’t a star for nothing. He knew how to put on a good show.


	11. Breakfast club

Mikel Arteta woke up with a smile on his face. His eyes were still half-shut but he could already sense the sunlight cascading generously into the room. There was a delicious ache in every bone of his body. And by god, these pillows were soft. He nuzzled his cheek against the cushions, sighing happily.

“You like burrowing in my bed, don’t you?” Mikel Alonso teased.

Miki opened one eye to glance lazily at his lover. “Yes, I do.” This bed was, quite honestly, the best bed he’s ever been fucked on. The pillows were plump, the mattress was firm, the sheets were thick and velvety. He didn’t even own anything with a thread count.

“When you’re done rolling around, how about some breakfast?” Mikel asked. He must have taken a bath while Miki was asleep because he was in a fresh pair of shorts and his hair was still dripping wet.

Miki stretched. “Sounds great.”

“I’ll tell the maids to start preparing some food,” Mikel said, walking over to the intercom perched on the bedside table.

Miki smirked. _Maids._ Of course the Alonsos had hired help, along with their Egyptian cotton sheets.

He finally pulled himself up. “Is it okay if I take a shower first before breakfast?” He made a face as he rubbed his torso, “I feel all sticky from last night.”

A devilish grin spread on Mikel’s face. “Of course you do,” he snickered, “You went pretty wild.”

Miki blushed. “Wild is such a strong word.” He didn’t go _wild_. He was just… really horny. And, admittedly, it had always been his kink, letting guys blow their load on him. It turned him on to no end, the feeling of cum so hot on his skin. And Mikel clearly enjoyed it too – he kept rubbing his seed into Miki’s skin last night then licking it off after. Miki shuddered at the memory.

Mikel noticed. “Morning wood?” He winked, motioning at Miki’s hardening cock.

“I’m ready for round two,” Miki licked his lips.

Mikel laughed. “We’ll take care of that after breakfast.” He mouthed a wet kiss against Miki’s neck before pulling him off the bed. “The bathroom’s at the end of the hall. There are fresh towels in the cupboard under the sink.”

Miki nodded, but it’s not like he didn’t know that. It wasn’t exactly his first time sleeping over at the Alonsos. Sure, in the past, he was sleeping with a _different_ Alonso, but that was a mere technicality.

“Okay, I’ll catch up downstairs. I won’t take long,” Miki said, scratching his stomach lazily. He wandered around the room to look for his boxers so he could cover his modesty. He eventually found them under a chair, but they were soiled from last night. Sighing, he gave up. The bathroom was just one hop, skip and naked jump away anyway.

Of course, as Mikel took his sweet time strolling to the guest bathroom, Xabi emerged from his bedroom. And even on a Saturday morning, he still looked sharp – freshly-shaven, wrapped in a silk robe with a roll of newspaper tucked under his arm.

Miki froze on the spot. He stood there in all his glory. He tried to cover himself with his hands, but it was useless.

Xabi did a double-take. Then the surprise just as quickly left his face, and he was expressionless again.

“Oh. You stayed over,” he said coolly.

“Yeah. Long night,” Miki shot back.

Xabi raised an elegant, cruel eyebrow. “It’s nice to know you’re working your way through this household. Who’s next? Have you met our new chauffeur?”

Miki burned a bright red. Xabi snickered under his breath as he walked past. At work or outside, he always had the last word.

Miki stomped to the bathroom, fuming. _How dare he. How dare he insinuate that I’m some shameful slut. I didn’t plan this!_

“Mikel flirted with me first,” he muttered to no one as he slammed the door behind him. He gripped the sink and glared at his reflection in the mirror. Was he supposed to turn down Mikel just because he was Xabi’s estranged brother?

*

Mikel was waiting for his bread to toast when Xabi entered the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he greeted, tapping his fork against the timer, as if that would make it go faster.

Xabi just grunted back. He walked to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.

Mikel nodded toward the dining room where Stevie was already digging into a plate of sausages the maids had brought out. “I see you have a guest.”

Xabi snorted. “I see _you_ have a guest.”

Mikel grinned widely. Xabi scowled.

“Now come on, cheer up. Didn’t you get a good shag?” Mikel craned his neck again and checked out Stevie in the next room. The Scouser’s legs were crossed, and you could get a pretty good look up his boxers.

“Jesus, Mikel, isn’t your boyfriend just upstairs?” Xabi scolded, shaking his head in disgust.

“I wasn’t doing anything!”

The toaster went off and Mikel took out his bread. He started scraping off the burnt side with the side of his fork. Xabi cringed – he hated that scratchy, wooden sound.

“Fucking hell, why did you even toast the bread to begin with?” Xabi yelled, his shoulders hunched up to his ears. “This is why I never have breakfast with you!”

Mikel laughed as Xabi stalked off to join Stevie in the dining room. His brother was just too easy to wind up.

Not long after, Miki joined them for breakfast. He bounded into the room, bright-eyed and excited, and then he screeched to a complete halt when he saw who was at the table.

Xabi looked up from his newspaper and spared Miki the most fleeting of glances. And then he turned the page and he was busy reading again.

Miki approached the table cautiously and took the seat opposite Mikel. That put him adjacent to Xabi and right beside Stevie.

The Scouser wiped his mouth on the table napkin. “Hey, I didn’t know you were here!” He said, clapping Miki on the shoulder.

Miki put on a big, fake smile. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing.” He glared at where he supposed Xabi was behind his Financial Times.

“Dig in, babe,” Mikel said, handing his lover a plate of fresh fruits. There was an assortment of spreads and jams to go with the bread and a large platter of fat sausages, although Stevie had already devoured half of them.

“Isn’t this great?” Mikel beamed at everyone. It was hard to tell if he was genuinely happy or if he was just rubbing in the awkwardness of the situation. “I hardly even get to have breakfast with Xabi, and today, there are four of us. It’s a full house!”

Miki gagged on his toast. Xabi flipped a page of his newspaper as noisily as possible. Only Stevie had the gall to laugh – he laughed out loud.

Xabi sighed, folded up the Financial Times and tossed it on the table. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Well, this has been marvellous, but I’m afraid I’ll have to go ahead.”

“Are you going to work?”

Xabi sipped from his coffee, “No, I’m going back to bed. It’s early enough anyway.”

Stevie’s ears perked up like an obedient dog. He hurriedly finished his orange juice. “I’ll come with you,” he said, bounding after Xabi.

Miki pretended to be busy eating, but he was listening closely – the quiet murmur between Stevie and Xabi, their hurried steps up the stairs and finally, the bedroom door slamming loudly.

Miki threw down his toast – suddenly, he’d lost his appetite.

*

Xabi was hoping for a long, lazy lie-in with Stevie, but they had barely gotten their shirts off when the Spaniard’s mobile started ringing shrilly.

Xabi sighed and rolled off the bed. He snatched his phone from the bedside table and checked the screen. It was Iker, the head of Blacklisted in Madrid.

“Fuck. I have to take this. Thirty seconds, I promise,” he told Stevie as he moved to the other end of the bedroom for some privacy.

Stevie sighed and reached for the remote control. When Xabi said “30 seconds,” it usually meant “30 minutes,” especially when it was a business call.

“Iker,” Xabi greeted. “I wasn’t expecting your call until this afternoon.”

Iker laughed over the phone. “I finished the papers ahead of schedule.”

“I have to say, I’m surprised you’re even up this early on a Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed it yet, but it turns out that being the head of a company – even if it’s a porn company – is fucking insane. How do people get things done with just five workdays in a week?”

Xabi grinned even though Iker couldn’t see it. “Maybe you should spend less time fucking your stars?” His gaze briefly flickered to a nearly-naked Stevie spread gloriously over his bed. Ah, well, Iker couldn’t see that either.

“I’m not fucking my stars,” Iker protested. “I just… take my work home.”

They both chortled deviously.

Iker went on to brief Xabi about work: the latest figures (“We did well in 2011, surprisingly. It turns out, people still buy porn even during a recession.”), the feedback on their newest videos (“Damn, Stevie knocked that one out of the park. And I have to say, that new boy… Damn.”) and even the freshest gossip (“Cesc wants a bigger dressing room. Fuck that bitch, man.”).

“Basically, that’s it from my end,” Iker concluded, a little breathless from talking. He hadn’t even prompted Xabi to share news from England, and the Basque was already ranting.

“Have I told you that my _executive assistant_ is fucking my _brother_?!”

“Wait, Mikel? He’s seeing… wait, Mikel?” Even Iker was confused with what he just said.

“Yes!” Xabi half-screamed so maybe he understood. He had to take a deep breath to calm down because god, those two were infuriating, and he’s been keeping it in for some time now.

“Are they allowed to do that?

“Of course they’re not!”

Stevie sat up in bed and peered at Xabi, “Everything okay?”

Xabi shooed him away impatiently and locked himself inside his walk-in closet so he could talk to Iker in private.

“And you know what’s really annoying? I bet Mikel – my brother – is just doing this to piss me off. It’s bad enough that I have to live with him, and now he decides to date the one person I work the most closely with. He’s practically fucked half the men and women here in this city, can he at least spare my staff?”

“But your only staff is… Mikel Arteta.”

“Yeah! So?’

Iker didn’t dare respond. He wasn’t afraid of Xabi, not like other people, but when the Basque was in one of his moods, it was best to stay out of the way.

“I hate my brother,” Xabi continued. “No, I despise him. What’s he done for himself? Absolutely nothing.”

“I thought he was working as a freelance photographer these days?”

“Yeah,” Xabi snorted, “But what does that even mean? He attends parties and takes pictures of people drinking and dancing? Any idiot with a mobile phone and Instagram can do that.”

“But no, you ask my parents and they can’t stop fawning over Mikel. ‘We’ve always wanted someone creative in the family!’ Fuck that shit, Iker. All Mikel does is point and shoot that camera, he can’t even do anything fancy with it. I’m singlehandedly running the premier porn company in England. I’m making a shitload of money. And I’m the bad son.”

Iker was quiet throughout the rant, but that was fine with Xabi. He was used to it. He had that effect on people.

“It just disgusts me, seeing Arteta look up to my brother like he’s the best thing that’s fucked him. I can’t believe he buys all the shit my brother dishes out. I know Mikel – he says a lot of things, but half of them aren’t true. He’s flighty and he goes through people like dirty laundry.”

“Have you told him that?” Iker asked.

“I told him to stay away from Mikel, and he wouldn’t listen. So, he can crash and burn for all I care.”

“Sweet,” Iker commented dryly. “Sounds like things are heating up there.”

“You have no idea. I haven’t even told you about Stevie and Fernando yet.”

Iker cooed, intrigued, “I knew it. There was something telling in the way they were fucking each other.”

“I’ll explain it next time,” Xabi promised.

“Good. Anyway, I need to get back to… work.”

“Mmm. Say hi to Cesc for me then.”

“Well, he wants a bigger dressing room. I’m just making sure he’s working hard to get it,” Iker said with a maniacal laugh that eerily reminded Xabi of himself. There _was_ a dose of evil required to run a porn company, he thought.

Outside, Stevie waited for Xabi to finish his conversation with Iker. He couldn’t make out exactly what the Basque was saying, but he did hear raised voices and Spanish curse words. Xabi was really riled up about the Mikels. Stevie wondered if Iker understood why. Stevie definitely didn’t. And he had a strange feeling Xabi didn’t quite understand the root of his anger either.

Xabi finally emerged and collapsed on the bed, groaning. He lay on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow.

Stevie laughed and scooted closer to the Basque. He placed his hands on the other man’s shoulders, slowly kneading the tense muscles underneath. “Don’t stress out.”

Xabi groaned again, but it was much softer this time. It could have been because of the deliciously painful sensation of Stevie working out the knots in his back. He lay himself flat against the bed so Stevie could massage him more easily.

Stevie obliged dutifully, drawing his hands down to Xabi’s shoulder blades and working on those next. Beneath his touch, Xabi grew more relaxed, unclenched.

Then, he started massaging Xabi’s lower back and then his sides, rolling his thumbs against the taut flesh. Stevie licked his lips and pressed tiny kisses along the Basque’s spine. Xabi moaned his name.

Stevie let his hands drift further and further down, until he could grab Xabi’s butt cheeks. He groped them lustfully, running his tongue along the small of Xabi’s back. Xabi never let him…

“Stevie.” Xabi said, and his voice was stern again, his body coiled tightly like a spring. He flipped over, and Stevie immediately flashed him an innocent smile. “Oh, sorry, I wasn’t trying to…”

Xabi glared at him. Stevie should have known better – the Basque was always hyperaware and very defensive about being a bottom. He was a top, period, end of discussion.

“Come here.”

Sheepishly, Stevie climbed on to Xabi who immediately grabbed him into a deep, searing kiss, as if to prove his dominance. His gripped Stevie’s hips, holding him in place as he rocked upwards to press his hardening cock against his ass.

Stevie groaned, albeit very weakly. It’s been a long time since he’s done this – be a bottom. He only does it for Xabi, actually, and he hasn’t had sex with Xabi in quite some time. People, Arteta and Fernando included, just thought they were at it day and night since they were closer than most people in Blacklisted.

Xabi inched down his briefs and a wave of dread washed over Stevie. He could do this, no question about it. He was a porn star, for crying out loud. And it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy it. He did. He just didn’t like not being in his element.

Xabi didn’t bother with any ceremonies. They had rehearsed this well enough last night. He easily slipped into Stevie. The Scouser placed his hands on Xabi’s chest to keep his balance as he rode him. Xabi flexed his hips up to meet Stevie thrust for thrust.

“Wait, wait,” Xabi said breathlessly. “I’ve got something for you.” He made Stevie get off him, and he leaned over to his bedside table and fumbled through the drawers. He brought out a small object, still wrapped in plastic.

“What is that?” Stevie asked suspiciously.

“A cock ring.”

Stevie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A cock ring.”

“Yeah!”

Stevie wasn’t particularly fond of cock rings. He didn’t understand how they were supposed to make things more pleasurable. Xabi must have read his mind.

“It’s not for you,” he said. Of course he knew Stevie’s proclivities in bed. “Or, well, not in the way you’re imagining it.”

He slipped on the cock ring and motioned for Stevie to take him in again.

Stevie didn’t understand what was happening, but he obeyed nevertheless. Once the head of Xabi’s cock was inside him, the Spaniard reached down and fiddled with his cock ring. Suddenly, the little toy started vibrating, and with it, Xabi’s engorged member.

“Fuck!” Stevie yelped, and his immediate reaction was to clamber off. Xabi held him in place, his eyes already a darker shade of brown as he stared down at his throbbing cock.

It felt as if Xabi’s cock was literally drilling in through him. The vibrations couldn’t have been that strong, but it felt like they were racking Stevie to his very core. It got even worse when Xabi was fully sheathed inside him. It was like, no matter how he shifted, Xabi was thrumming against his prostate.

Stevie’s mind was clouded with unabashed lust, but he could hear himself groaning insensibly. Xabi watched him with rapt attention, as the sight of Stevie completely undone aroused him further. The vibrations on his cock didn’t hurt either.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, just keep moving,” Stevie muttered, eyes closed and cock leaking.

Xabi didn’t even have to do much. When he rolled his hips gently, Stevie mewled. When he thrust sharply, the Scouser seemingly contorted, his nails digging hard into Xabi’s shoulders.

It didn’t take them long to hit their climax. Xabi pumped into Stevie erratically and came inside him. Stevie felt the warmth spread inside him, and he soon followed.

Stevie fell heavily down on the bed, his limbs trembling as if that godforsaken cock ring was still playing with him.

Xabi gingerly pulled off the toy from his cock and wrapped it in a wad of tissue. He glanced at Stevie who was staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.

“Enjoy?” He teased.

Stevie gulped down air. “Yes,” he said grudgingly. “But fuck if I’m doing that again.”

Xabi laughed and wiped a bead of sweat from Stevie’s forehead. Then, his eyes lit up all of a sudden. He snapped his fingers, “If that toy worked on you, I can’t imagine what it’ll do to Fernando. Shit, maybe we should film that for you two.”

“You do know that he’s fucking Daniel Agger.”

“Of course.” Everyone knew who was fucking who in Blacklisted.

Stevie propped himself up on his elbows. He looked anxious now. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you… You wouldn’t make Fernando partner up with Daniel now, right?” He hurriedly added, “I mean, I don’t particularly care for him personally, but I’m the best top you have and he’s the best bottom right now, and I deserve the best.”

Xabi smiled wryly, easily reading in between the lines of what Stevie could not say. “Stevie, if I paired up people just because they were fucking each other off the set… Or if I split up pairings just because they’ve gotten into fights…” Xabi threw his hands up in the air. “The shit would hit the fan.”

Stevie laughed, and there was an undertone of relief there.

They both lay back down on the bed and tried to catch their breaths.

“Have you talked to Fernando yet?”

“No,” Stevie said with a dismissive snort.

“I assumed you cared more.”

“About Fernando? What the fuck, Xabs?” Stevie exclaimed.

Xabi snickered, shaking his head. “No. _Daniel_.” He stretched lazily, “I assumed you’d be more vindictive about losing.”

*

If there was one thing that worked for Fernando, it was that he played football. A lot of it. Sergio watched the door because he knew Fernando finished his pick-up game at around 7:30 PM and he would be walking into the flat right about… now.

“Hey,” Fernando greeted as he struggled through their narrow doorway, saddled down by his school bag and his gym bag. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Sergio pretended to be busy with his magazine for a few more seconds before looking up. He’d mastered this technique. His eyes briefly scanned over Fernando, and he sneered with disgust.

“You need to change.”

Fernando put down his bags in his room. “I am. I am. I’m taking a shower,” he said, tugging off his sweaty shirt and throwing it into the laundry basket.

Sergio bit back a smile as he observed Fernando’s body. It was amazing how a few hours of football could tone his torso despite how much time he spent sitting on his ass, playing video games in his bedroom, surviving on nothing but Chinese takeaway and deep-dish pizza.

“Anyway, Gago and I had dinner out. And I don’t think there are any leftovers – any edible ones, at least – in the ref. So.” Sergio flipped a page in his magazine haughtily.

“Great,” Fernando said, as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Sergio stayed in his place on the couch. Fernando never took more than 15 minutes in the shower anyway. There was still an encore. 

Right on cue, Fernando emerged from his bath a while after. Sergio watched him hungrily. He especially loved the way Fernando’s threadbare towel barely hung over his bubble butt. He wished Fernando would walk around like that just a little bit longer.

Unfortunately, Fernando head to his bedroom and when he came out, he was already wearing a pair of football shorts. The fabric was flimsy, though, and the blonde wasn’t wearing any briefs underneath. That was a good consolation prize.

“I’m thinking of ordering Thai or maybe Vietnamese. Do you want some?” Fernando said, padding to the refrigerator where the take-out menus were posted.

Sergio kept his magazine close to his face and he huffed distractedly. “No. I already ate, I told you.”

Fernando rolled his eyes. “I was just asking.” Sergio was a bitch – even before, there was no denying it. But he was always nice to Fernando. They were friends, and they had some history. Ever since he started dating Gago, though, he just became too much to handle.

Fernando busied himself with the food delivery to take his mind off his roommate. He just got through to the hotline of Thai Express when the doorbell rang. He placed his hand over the receiver and called out, “Sergio, can you get that? I’m on the phone.”

“You’re nearer!” Sergio yelled back from where he was lounging on the couch.

Fernando glared at the Sevillan. He was hungry and he was tired and his pad thai and spring rolls were waiting to be ordered. “You’re not even doing anything!”

Sergio waved around his copy of GQ like it was a matter of life and death.

The doorbell rang again. Fernando groaned. “I’ll call again later,” he told the girl at Thai Express.

Sergio heard Fernando stomp to their door, as if it were so far away from the kitchen, and then throw open the door. What followed though, was an odd bout of silence. Sergio put down his magazine and straightened up on the couch so he could see what was happening.

“What are you doing here?” Fernando demanded in a hushed, self-conscious tone. It was futile though, since Sergio could hear everything. Their flat wasn’t exactly gigantic.

There was an inaudible reply. Fernando continued, “I can’t let you in” – he looked over his shoulder nervously and saw Sergio watching.

Sergio jumped up and bounded to the doorway. “Fernando, how rude.” He forced the door wide open, “Let your friend in.”

The visitor was a pale, freckled boy, very similar to Fernando. He was tall and lean, and his hair was brown and messy around his angular face. Tattoos spilled down his arms, past the sleeves of his shirt.

“Hi,” Sergio said, smiling widely as he could sense Fernando dying at his side.

“Sergio, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is Sergio,” the blonde mumbled.

“Fernando was just ordering in some dinner. Would you like to join us?”

“Actually,” Fernando cut in. He looked at Daniel meaningfully, “Maybe you and I should just have dinner outside.”

Dan shrugged. “Sure, whatever you like.”

Fernando reluctantly let the Dane in. “I’m gonna go and change. I’ll be quick.” He glanced at Sergio, who was already preparing to interview Daniel. Fernando stressed, “I’ll be _really_ quick.”

As Fernando dashed to his bedroom to change, Sergio carefully assessed Daniel from head to toe. Rough, dishevelled, and yet oddly put together. He could tell his beat-up boots were expensive, and his jeans looked expertly distressed. Something was amiss here.

“Yod you work in Burger King too?” Sergio asked sceptically.

Daniel readily nodded. He was used to the random cover-ups of his co-stars. Funnily enough, “fast food worker” was a common excuse.

“I suppose you work with that other guy too? The one with the horrible accent and the flashy clothes?”

Daniel snorted. “Stevie? Unfortunately.” They headed to the living room and sat on the couch. Daniel rubbed his chin, “So, he’s been around here too?”

Sergio’s eyebrow rose. There was a hint of annoyance in Daniel’s tone. He wondered what the issue was.

“Yeah. He comes here often,” Sergio said casually.

Daniel bristled. “That guy’s an ass.”

“He seems to get along great with Fernando.”

Daniel fumed even more, and Sergio couldn’t believe it. Were Daniel and Stevie… _fighting_ over his loser of a roommate?

His investigations were cut short, though, as Fernando scrambled out of his bedroom, still buttoning up half his shirt.

“Let’s go,” he said, bending down to shove his feet properly into his trainers.

“No need to rush!” Sergio said, but Fernando was already pushing Daniel out the flat, grabbing a discarded jacket on the kitchen counter at the last second. “Don’t wait up!”

*

They were already around the block by the time Fernando finally stopped speed-walking. Daniel had to jog to keep up with him.

“What was that?” Dan huffed as they slowed to a leisurely stroll.

Fernando sighed. “My roommate.”

“He seems like a very lovely person,” Dan quipped dryly.

Fernando rolled his shoulders to release some of the tension. “All he does is rag on me. I can usually ignore him, but I can barely stop myself from bitching back lately.”

Dan shrugged, “Being a pornstar does that to you.”

“What, it gives you a backbone?”

“No, an attitude.”

They laughed. Daniel looked around the shops they were passing. “Where do you want to have dinner?”

Fernando suddenly felt embarrassed for dragging the Dane around. “Sorry, have you eaten already? I can just grab a bite later. Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, it’s fine, let’s eat. The reason I dropped by anyway was to see if you wanted to hang out.”

Fernando turned away so Daniel wouldn’t see him blush. He hasn’t seen or heard from Dan since they slept together, although that was a pretty momentous occasion in itself.

They ended up walking to Thai Express to get the pad thai Fernando’s been craving for. Daniel, who hated Asian food, even ordered spring rolls to humour Fernando. He ended up trying just one and spitting it out in his tissue when the Spaniard wasn’t looking.

“Sergio’s been noticing that I’ve…” Fernando picked at his noodles, “Changed.” His clothes, his hair, his habits – he had more money and he disappeared at odd hours for meetings and parties, sometimes even entire weekends for shoots.

Daniel shrugged. “Somebody’s going to find out someday. There’s no changing that fact.”

Fernando frowned. Dan nudged him with his elbow. “Speaking from experience, though, it’s never as bad as you expect it to be. Being a pornstar may seem like a very public secret, but given the sheer amount of porn out there, it’s rare someone you know stumbles upon your porn video.”

Fernando shovelled another forkful of noodles into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Besides, not a lot of people pay for porn, much less expensive porn like the ones on Blacklisted.”

The blond smiled a little. “I guess.” The tips of his ears turned red as he admitted, “I’m actually just worried that _Sergio_ will find out.” Fernando didn’t have any close friends anyway, and his university was so huge, very few people recognised him by name and by face.

Dan twirled a chopstick between his fingers, “Why don’t you just move out so you don’t have to deal with him?”

Fernando blushed even more. “I like living with Sergio”

“He’s a right prick, you said so yourself.”

“I know,” Fernando struggled to explain. “But, we used to date, so.”

“Then why is he so horrible to you?”

The Spaniard shrugged. He wished he knew too.

“He still fancies you.”

“Of course not. He has a boyfriend who is worse than him.”

“Why else would he care what you’ve been up to?” Daniel pointed out.

“I’d be curious too if my roommate was sneaking out to film pornography.”

Daniel wasn’t even paying attention to Fernando’s excuses. He was deep in thought, and Fernando thought that was the end of the conversation.

Suddenly, Dan snapped his fingers, “I’ve got it.” His eyes were bright and mischievous as he continued. “I assume you and Sergio never did it, right? Because you were a virgin when you entered Blacklisted.”

The Thai Express wasn’t a tiny, hole-in-the-wall restaurant, and Fernando could swear other people could overhear them. He hid his face under his jacket.

“You know what you should do? One night when it’s just the two of you at home, you should walk up to Sergio and just do him.”

“Daniel!” Fernando exclaimed, aghast.

“I’m serious. You should just pounce on him and just blow him.”

Fernando was as red as a tomato. He reached over and hit the Dane with the menu. “I can’t do that,” he hissed, voice low. “In the real world, I’m still the regular, old Fernando, and I hate to say it, but I’m a prude.”

Daniel was smiling widely. Knowingly. “No, you aren’t.”

Fernando hit Daniel again. “Don’t even say it.”

“I’m telling you, just put Sergio’s dick in your mouth and suck it like the expert that you are.”

A hot flush crept up Fernando’s neck, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. He did blow Daniel like a boss, he recalled. Daniel clearly read his mind because his grin became smug.

“Have you been to the office lately? Everyone’s been talking about us.”

“I know. Stevie even had a nice little speech about it,” Fernando grumbled. He put down his chopsticks. He didn’t feel like eating anymore.

“So you haven’t kissed and made up yet?” Dan asked, not even bothering to hide how pleased he was.

“Not yet. And we have a meeting next week because Xabi wants us to work on a new project together. I don’t even know how I’m going to handle being in the same room with him.”

Daniel shrugged. “Then don’t. Tell Xabi you want to try and work with someone else.”

“I don’t know if I know how to work with anybody else.”

“You can work with me.” Dan lightly ran his fingertip over Fernando’s arm. “You’ve already had the practice.”

Fernando squirmed. His eyes followed the trail Daniel was making. “You think Xabi will let us?”

“Leave that up to me.”


	12. I smell sex and candy

Fernando sat still, very still. Maybe if he didn't move, the others would forget he was there.

“You want me to do what?” Xabi bellowed.

Daniel shrugged, cool as you’d like. “I want you to pair up Fernando and me for a movie.”

Xabi leaped from his seat, laughing sardonically. “And you think you can just come into my office, demanding projects? Who are you, even?”

If there was one thing that could wipe off the smug, self-assured grin on Daniel’s face, it was that jibe.

“I forget. You’re only willing to award the best projects to Stevie because he lets you put your cock in his pussy, right?”

Xabi laughed even harder. Sometimes he enjoyed arguing with his wards, just so he could put them in their place. “Oh, Daniel, if I gave away projects based on who I wanted to fuck, you wouldn’t be getting any. Unfortunately, you’re still on my payroll.”

“But I deserve a shot!” Dan said, banging his fist on Xabi’s desk.

“Your sense of entitlement is amazing,” Xabi replied. “Daniel, just because you don’t get the shots you want doesn’t mean you’re not getting a shot. You get your fair share of projects. Until you do better in them, you will take what I assign to you, and you will like it.”

Daniel groaned. Then, he twisted in his chair and nodded at Fernando, who was seated meekly on the couch.

“What about Fernando? He’s the best bottom you have, right? So he can request for special projects,” Daniel pointed out. “He wants to work with me.”

Fernando froze. Why was he involved in the conversation? He wasn’t here! He was invisible!

Xabi spun on his heel to face the blonde.

Fernando’s jaw dropped. He tried to explain, but he had nothing to say, so he just ended up mumbling unintelligibly. Finally, he just nodded. Xabi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What the fuck did Daniel even say to you? What did he do?”

“I resent that!” The Dane piped in.

Xabi rubbed his temples as he glanced from one freckled boy to another. Fernando still wasn’t saying anything, but he wasn’t denying anything either.

Now he was going to have to greenlight this pairing. He knew he was going to be forced to. And on a technicality at that.

He refused to give any leeway for Daniel, but he would have to for Fernando. The Spaniard was the best bottom in Blacklisted, that was true. He was a star in his own right -- even without Stevie, even with just a couple of full-length movies under his belt.

It was an ugly truth of the trade. The best stars had bargaining power. And Xabi allowed that because he always assumed that they would already know better.

Stevie, for example, as much as he was an overconfident, self-absorbed dickhead, that boy knew his pornography. He knew what would work and what wouldn’t. He only pitched for ideas he knew he could justify. It was his career on the line too, after all.

But here was Fernando, almost curled up in a ball on the couch, clearly being led on Daniel’s leash.

“Even if you two wanted to pair up, I don’t have any projects in the pipeline that would work for the both of you,” Xabi said. It wasn’t a lie.

Daniel grinned. “Don’t worry. We’ll talk to the writers.” He sat on the edge of his seat, sensing that victory was near. “If they can come up with something, will you let us shoot it?”

Xabi pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t say this. He couldn’t, for the love of god and all that was holy.

“Fuck. Fine.”

“Yes!” Daniel yelled, pumping his fist in the air.

“But only if you can find a story! And not a full-length story. A 10-minute clip.”

“What?!” Daniel yelped, but he caught himself and immediately shrugged. “Whatever. Fine. We can work with that.”

Xabi raised his hand and shooed the two away. “Good. Now, get out of my office.” He held the door open to usher them out.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Xabi. You won’t regret this!” Dan said excitedly.

“I already am,” the boss muttered.

Fernando slunk past him, head down, still quiet. Xabi brusquely clasped a hand around his arm before he could leave.

“You know, I’m disappointed in you.”

Fernando recoiled. He tried to apologise, although he didn’t know for what, but Xabi shut door in his face.

*

Fernando stood on the curb, waiting for Daniel to ready his motorcycle. He offered to give Fernando a lift to university, and the opportunity to arrive in campus on a lean, mean BMW bike was too good to turn down.

“Daniel?” Fernando began, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure about this plan?”

Dan stopped shining his side mirrors. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? We talked about this so many times.”

Actually, they talked about it once. When Fernando’s state of mind was questionable since he was running on Thai food and revenge. And while he didn’t exactly say no to Daniel, he didn’t explicitly support the idea either.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out now. We’re so close!”

 _I’m_ so close, that was what Fernando heard.

“Are you scared because of how Xabi reacted today?” Dan asked. “We’re not forcing his hand, Fernando. They let all the newbies make 10-minute clips. It’s entry-level pornography in Blacklisted.”

That made Fernando feel better but just a tad. There was something amiss about this plan, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Daniel sensed the Spaniard’s reluctance. He approached him on the sidewalk and put his hands on his shoulders, “Look, I’ll take care of everything. I’ll get us a meeting with the writers. I’ll arrange the shoot. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Fernando looked down and sighed. “Okay.”

Daniel nudged Fernando’s chin with his knuckle. “Is that a yes?”

Fernando shrugged one shoulder but he nodded.

“Great,” Daniel broke out into a big grin. He took out a pair of helmets from the compartment of his motorcycle and handed one to Fernando. “We’re in this together, babe. You can’t back out now.”

*

Fernando's mood grew worse and worse as the day went on. Something about what Xabi said hung heavily in his mind, and it made him feel horrible.

On top of that, he got a D on his Psychology paper, putting him on the brink of failing, and then he suffered a hard tackle during their pick-up game, so he had to hobble to the bus stop on one good leg.

The last thing he needed when he got home was Sergio giving him an attitude.

"Fernando, the electricity company called today. Guess what? They want to cut off our power," Sergio said the moment Fernando limped into their flat. The Sevillan stood in the middle of their narrow hallway, blocking Fernando's path. His hands were crossed over his chest, and an angry scowl marred his face.

Fernando froze. He was in charge of paying the electricity bill this month. "Was the payment due already?"

"Last week."

Well, shit. Fernando desperately searched for some kind of explanation.

“Uh…” He dithered.

Sergio just glared, already expecting an answer he wouldn't like. It felt like he was being confronted by Xabi all over again.

"I… forgot."

Sergio exploded, throwing out his arms in the air. "Of course you forgot. You're so very busy failing your classes, right? Playing video games in your room? Jacking off to cheap porn?"

Fernando's cheeks turned red. That was one time, and Sergio only caught him because he forgot to lock his door.

"What, is it because you don't have money? Do I have to pay the bill again?" Sergio said. It would have been fine if he asked the question out of concern, but he spoke in such a tired, all-suffering tone, and it grated on Fernando.

"I have the money, okay? I just forgot to pay the bill. I'll do it first thing tomorrow," Fernando snapped.

But once Sergio got into one of his fits, he had a hard time finding his way out of it. "How could you be so irresponsible? I can't believe you can even keep a job, even a pathetic one at some fast food chain."

Fernando’s jaw dropped, but he let the insult pass. “I told you, I’ll get it done!”

He pushed past Sergio and headed to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. There was no point trying to talk to the Sevillan when he was in this mood.

Now Fernando really felt like shit. He lay down in bed, elevating his sore ankle by the window sill. He scrolled through his mobile looking for somebody to call. He needed to rant to make himself feel better.

He considered calling his friends in university, his teammates on the five-a-sides, but it felt like it’s been forever since he’s told them anything. Lately, it’s seemed like Blacklisted was his full-time commitment, and school was just his part-time job.

Then, out of instinct, he dialled Stevie’s number. He couldn’t end the call fast enough. He forgot they still weren’t talking. He couldn’t even remember why.

Fernando eventually called Daniel who answered on the first ring.

“Hey, I was just about to call you!” Daniel greeted. Just the idea that somebody was thinking of him too – it was making Fernando feel better already.

“What’s up?”

“I got us a meeting with the writers. It’s tomorrow at 6 PM. I’ll fetch you after your class.” That was Daniel Agger for you. Direct, deliberate, dictatorial.

Fernando held back a sigh. That damn project again. “Okay.”

“Why so glum?”

Fernando immediately drew up a half-lie. He couldn’t work up the nerve to turn down Daniel’s plan. Daniel was all he had in Blacklisted. “Sorry, it’s just Sergio. He’s acting up again.”

“I told you. Just suck him off. It’s all that sexual tension. You need to literally suck it out of him.”

Fernando laughed. “I highly doubt Sergio treats me like this just because he wants to have sex with me.”

“Okay, so maybe he’s just a horrible person,” Daniel relented. “But you’d still be surprised what a good blowjob can do.”

Fernando teased, “Is that why you like me now?”

Daniel laughed and flirted back easily. “I’ve always liked you, babe.”

This was Fernando’s occupational hazard: working with men who were too smooth and too cool, and he fell for them every time.

“And Sergio’s going to like you too, I bet,” Daniel continued.

“We’re done fighting. It won’t make sense if I just go up to him now and offer to blow him.”

“That’s even better. He won’t have a clue! Don’t say anything, don’t explain yourself. Just get on your knees in front of him.”

Fernando frowned as he tried to imagine it. “He won’t even be hard,” he pointed out.

Daniel chortled. “Fernando, if you put it in your mouth, it _will_ get hard.”

Fernando tried to laugh along, but his voice wavered. Why was he even nervous? There was no way he was going to do this anyway.

They ended their call with Daniel yelling, “Don’t let me down, Fernando!” And the next thing Fernando knew, he was going out of his room.

Sergio was sitting on the couch, watching a boxing match. When he saw his roommate, he scowled. “Well, what do you want now?” He snapped. Clearly, he was still in a fighting mood.

Fernando froze, and for a second, he thought of just going back into the safety of his bedroom. Why was he even taking advice from Daniel Agger?

Sergio leaned back on the cushions and smiled, leering at Fernando. “Why don’t you stop standing around and just go and take a shower?”

Fernando’s face turned red. He wasn’t dumb – he knew Sergio watched him when he emerged from the bath. It’s not like he made a secret out of it. He always told Gago it was the one reason he put up with Fernando.

Fernando pursed his lips. Well, he could give him an even better reason.

It was strange how swiftly Fernando transitioned to his alter ego. He switched into porn star mode; he walked to Sergio like he was the camera – face calm, smile soft, shoulders back.

Sergio’s eyebrows rose, partly in confusion, partly in fear. “What…?”

No reasons, no explanations, Fernando reminded himself. He reached Sergio and placed his hands on the Sevillan’s knees. Slowly, he drew them apart and kneeled soundlessly on the space between them.

“What are you doing?” Sergio yelped, but he didn’t move.

Fernando kept his eyes focused on the fly of Sergio’s shorts. He undid the button and the zipper. He could hear Sergio above him starting to struggle breathing. Fernando tried to undress him, but his roommate was frozen into place. He wouldn’t even raise his hips.

Fernando pursed his lips. He pulled down Sergio’s shorts and briefs just enough to take out his cock. Sergio’s entire body went as rigid as a board at Fernando’s first touch.

“You’re not going to…” Sergio tried to gulp down air, “Are you?”

Fernando smirked to himself just before he leaned down to wrap his lips around the head of Sergio’s cock.

Sergio’s body immediately lurched forward as he tried both to escape the sensation and to plunge his body deeper into it.

Fernando kept his lips firmly around the head and just the head, and with his tongue, he teased at the slit. Sergio cursed incoherently.

Fernando placed his hands on the couch to steady himself. Aside from his mouth on Sergio’s cock, he made sure there was no other contact between him and the other boy. This was, after all, a game. A trick. A figment of Sergio’s imagination.

He lapped around the sides of Sergio’s dick, feeling it harden against his lips. He worked at it until the entire shaft was coated in his saliva, making it slick and slippery.

Sergio was at full mast now. Fernando sat back to study it and… he couldn’t help but frown in disappointment.

Maybe he was spoiled since Stevie was _unbelievable_ – thick and hefty and made for TV. Daniel too. He wasn’t as big as Stevie, but he had a nice size on him.

It was unfair to compare Sergio to elite porn stars, Fernando admitted, but Sergio had a big personality. Fernando always assumed the rest of him was just as big too.

"Do you like it?" Sergio grinned down at him.

Fernando smiled innocently and shrugged. Suddenly, Sergio's cockiness wasn't so intimidating anymore.

He looked at Sergio's erection again. At least this was going to be easy to swallow.

Spurred by a newfound confidence, Fernando took the soft, pink head and suckled it again.

“Fernando!” Sergio gasped.

Fernando parted his lips wider and moved further down an inch, and then another, and then another. Sergio's moans got higher and higher in pitch the more of his cock disappeared into the blonde's mouth.

He must have been expecting Fernando to stop at some point -- midway, three-fourths, soon. But Fernando just kept on bobbing his head, pushing deeper and deeper, until Sergio’s member pressed against the back of his throat.

Sergio was keening now. He was buried to the hilt inside Fernando’s mouth, his every lick and swallow made the walls of his throat constrict deliciously around Sergio’s erection. 

“Fuck, how did you… Where did you…” Sergio couldn’t form complete sentences. His entire body was coiled tightly like a spring. His hips were off the couch, his toes dug into the threadbare carpet.

Fernando drew Sergio all the way out – slowly so that he could feel every ridge on Sergio’s dick -- and then he took it all back in again in one slide. Sergio clutched desperately at the cushions and whimpered.

Fernando made a bet against himself: How long would it take for Sergio to hit his climax? Judging by the erratic roll of his hips, it wasn’t far off now. Fernando reckoned he could make him come in less than five minutes.

He wasted no time. He parted Sergio’s legs so he had more space to manoeuver and then went to work: rubbing his lips softly against the base, kneading his tongue around the sides, grazing his teeth over the skin.

“Oh, god,” Sergio shouted. He buried his hands in Fernando’s hair and pushed him down on his cock, begging him to deep-throat it again. Fernando obliged, taking Sergio’s entire length and slurping noisily around it.

“I’m co… oh, oh, god,” Sergio moaned, hitting his climax even before he could get the words out. 

Fernando felt the burst of heat on his tongue, and he immediately drew away. Sergio wasn’t even done coming – he jacked himself off as he rode the last waves of his orgasm – but Fernando already stood up and crossed to the kitchen, spitting the semen into the sink.

Of course, Sergio didn’t even ask if he could come in Fernando’s mouth. But then again, Fernando didn’t ask for permission either when he blew Sergio, so now they were even.

Fernando watched dazedly as the water washed away the remains of Sergio’s come. It was only then that it hit him: He had just given his roommate – this stupid boy he’d nursed a heavy, hardcore crush on for years and years – a blowjob. He craned his neck to check on Sergio, who was laid bonelessly on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. It was a pretty darn good blowjob too, by the looks of it.

“Hey, Fernando!” Sergio stirred to life. “Come here.”

Fernando stood still in the kitchen. He really didn’t want to.

“Fernando!” Sergio called out again, louder this time as he pat the empty space next to him on the couch.

Fernando sighed and shook his head, walking to the bathroom instead. Maybe he would just take a long, hot shower to cap off this day. As he shut the door behind him, he could hear Sergio yelling, “Wait! Where are you going? I can return the favour!”

Fernando looked down at his body as he undressed. He wasn’t even turned on.

*

“Are you ready?”

They stood in front of an apartment building. Daniel must have been here before because he knew where he could park his motorbike.

“When you said we were meeting with the writers, I assumed it would be in the Blacklisted office,” Fernando said.

Daniel led them to the lobby. The doorman just nodded at the Dane and waved them in.

“Well, when I said we were meeting with the writers, I really meant we were meeting with _a writer_.”

Fernando frowned. He didn’t appreciate being kept in the dark about this change in the plan. “And who is this one writer?”

“The only one that matters.”

They rode a lift and got off on one of the topmost floors. “You mean…”

“Christian.”

Fernando stopped in his tracks. “Christan Poulsen?”

Daniel shrugged like it was nothing. They proceeded to the end of the hallway, and Daniel knocked on the door. It took a while for Christian to answer, and the longer they waited, the worse Fernando felt.

“You should have told me we were meeting with Christian,” he hissed under his breath.

“It’s not a big deal!”

“If it’s not a big deal, then you should have told me!” Fernando snapped back.

The door opened and Christian greeted them. “Hi, Daniel,” he said, clapping his fellow Dane on the back. He nodded at Fernando, “Thanks for coming over.”

Fernando swallowed his pride and irritation and put on his best smile – Christian was still the Blacklisted head writer, and he didn’t want to make a bad impression.

Christian ushered them inside his apartment. Daniel followed, but Fernando hung back, studying his surroundings.

Christian’s apartment, while not as spacious or luxurious as Stevie’s or Daniel’s, was charming. Bookshelves lined the walls, and they were crammed chockfull of books and manuscripts. More books were stacked high on the tables, topped with a strange, misplaced items like a rattan ball, a wax apple or a black bowler hat.

It was a stark contrast to the bones of the apartment. The flooring, the carpets, the counters, the walls and the fixtures were all sleek and subdued and typically Scandinavian.

“I like your place,” Fernando remarked.

Christian, who was always unsure and quiet during Blacklisted meetings, was still as shy now. “Thanks,” he said with a crooked smile. Even his get-up – black plastic frames, maroon printed boxers, black rough-spun robe, almost like they had walked in on him and interfered on a long day of writing – seemed out of place. Somehow, his awkwardness calmed Fernando.

“Do you two want anything? I was just about to open a bottle of wine.”

Daniel eyed Fernando carefully. “A drink would be good.”

While Christian disappeared into the kitchen, Fernando asked, “What’s up? Why are you looking at me?”

Daniel closed the distance between them, looked deep into Fernando’s eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Fernando bit his lip. He was uncomfortable at the start because he was taken by surprise, but Christian seemed nice and easy-going. “I’m okay.”

Besides, Fernando didn’t want to be a downer, especially since his pairing with Daniel was just getting started. He softened his tone and offered, “I don’t know how these meetings go. You take the lead, and I’ll follow, okay?”

Daniel broke into a relieved smile and kissed the blonde on the lips. “Don’t worry.”

Christian was still rummaging around the kitchen, but he called out. “My computer is in my bedroom because that’s where I do my writing. Is it okay if we talk there instead?”

As promised, Daniel led the way to Christian’s bedroom – he knew where it was – and Fernando followed.

Christian’s Macbook sat on the desk, surrounded by sheets of notebook paper, lined with scribbles, with some words in Danish, some in English. Fernando peeked at the computer, and a file was open: the beginning of a script, with the date today and the heading, “D. Agger / F. Torres.”

It sent a shiver down Fernando’s spine.

Daniel stretched and sat down on Christian’s bed. The mattress was thick and covered with layers of blankets in varying shades of grey and white. The bed itself, though, was set low, just a foot from the floor.

There was nowhere else to sit in the room other than the desk chair, so Fernando sat beside Daniel on the edge of the bed.

Christian arrived, expertly carrying a wine bottle and three wine glasses. Once they all had their drinks, the writer settled on his desk chair and assessed the two boys.

“So,” he said, gesturing vaguely at Daniel and Fernando, “What is this? What happened?”

Daniel and Fernando looked at each other and they both shrugged.

“What’s the story?”

Daniel chuckled. “Well, we were hoping you would make the story.”

Christian sipped his wine. “I know. But I need a peg. A starting point.”

For a second, Daniel was at a loss for words, and Fernando’s face burned. The truth was, they didn’t have a story. Not for the first time that night, the Spaniard wondered what he was doing here.

“It was just a one night stand gone right,” Daniel said.

Fernando’s cheeks got even hotter. He chugged at his chardonnay.

For his part, Christian appreciated the honesty. He smiled wryly at Daniel, “To be fair, those are rare.” He turned to Fernando and asked, “How was it?”

“What?”

“The sex. How was it?” Christian repeated, hands hovering over the keyboard, prepared to type. “I assume it was good, if you two want to work with each other now.” Christian had become more confident – he was in his element, interviewing and writing.

Fernando coughed on his wine. “Good... It was good.”

Next to him, Daniel smirked. “Rough,” he added.

Christian nodded and typed.

And it wasn’t so much that their sex had been fast or forceful. It was that it was…

“Relentless,” Fernando said out loud.

Christian hummed appreciatively at the word, and his fingers typed faster.

Relentless, like every moment they had been together had been sexually-charged. Eyeing each other at the Blacklisted party, dirty talk and hard drinks at the bar, the long ride on the motorbike. By the time they were in Daniel’s apartment, they had groped in the garage, made out in the elevators and finished a blowjob in the foyer.

Fernando fought back a shiver.

Daniel turned to Fernando and smiled, pressed a heated kiss to his neck. It made the hairs on Fernando’s skin stand on end. He fought back a shiver and kept his attention trained on Christian. But, Daniel kept kissing up his neck to his ear. Fernando’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Daniel,” the Spaniard hissed under his breath.

“Mmm?” Daniel answered, somewhere behind the shell of Fernando’s ear.

Fernando shuffled on the bed so he could face Daniel. “Stop,” he said weakly.

The other boy wasn’t very convinced. He used their new position to kiss Fernando on the lips. Fernando felt himself melting into the liplock. He relented, just for a few seconds, before Christian noticed.

However, the problem with intimacy with Daniel was that it was all-consuming. It took Fernando in and made him just as reckless and thoughtless as Daniel.

Daniel pressed deeper into the kiss, swiped his tongue against Fernando’s lips. Fernando moaned – very, very silently, but you could hear a pin drop in the room – and clung to the younger boy to keep him close.

Fernando only stopped when he heard Christian push back his desk chair. Daniel, that shameless bastard, didn’t even notice.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Christian said, and he truly didn’t look the least bothered or even interested. He pushed his glasses further up his nose and raised the empty bottle of chardonnay, “I was just going to get more wine.”

“Oh, okay,” Fernando said breathlessly, still not understanding what and how this was happening.

Christian wasn’t even outside the bedroom yet and Daniel was already hauling Fernando on the bed so they could lie down.

“Wait, what are you…?” Fernando protested. They were in a stranger’s room, and that stranger was here. “Christian and the interview…”

But Daniel propped the Spaniard against the pillows and climbed over him. Soon, he was suckling on Fernando’s neck again, and the words died in Fernando’s mouth. Daniel was too good at this, Fernando thought, as his t-shirt was worked off of his body. He grabbed the headboard to brace himself as Daniel moved to kiss down his chest and stomach.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you.” Fernando cursed softly, heaving. His torso was too sensitive, and Daniel lapped at him like he was a sampler dish. He scrambled to get Daniel’s top off so he could touch his skin and stare at his tattoos and see the thug that was going to bang him.

Christian returned to the room and chuckled when he saw Daniel and Fernando. It was a light, airy chuckle, like he had just caught them jostling around or playing a prank and not desecrating his bed. Then, he went around the room to fill their wineglasses, not even sparing a second glance at the boys.

Daniel pulled himself up so he could sit on Fernando’s legs. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, Fernando could see the outline of his erection. His arousal was straining against his shorts too. Daniel lined their hips together. Fernando closed his eyes because he knew what was coming next.

They both groaned in relief as their cocks rubbed against each other. The obstruction of their clothes only made the sensation more delicious.

Groggily, Fernando lifted his head to check on Christian. He was way past the indignity, but he still felt thankful that the writer was just staring at his computer screen, reading his work as he sipped his wine thoughtfully.

Daniel continued to hump Fernando, sliding his crotch over him like he was already fucking him. The similar motions only built up the anticipation for the Spaniard, and he couldn’t wait until they were actually doing it. He couldn’t believe they were going have sex in Christian’s room, but he couldn’t imagine stopping now either.

Daniel stopped and sat back on his haunches. He unzipped his jeans and took out his cock, red and angry. Fernando licked his lips. Daniel sighed as he touched himself, gave himself a few quick strokes.

“Did you miss my cock?” He asked Fernando. They hadn’t fucked since their first time after the party.

Fernando nodded, entranced. “God, yes. Especially after Sergio.”

Daniel laughed. “So you did blow Sergio.”

“Like you said.”

“And?”

Fernando crawled toward Daniel. “And this will be so much better.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Christian interrupted. He stood up to give condoms to the two boys. “I like my sheets, thanks.”

Daniel winked. “I was waiting for that.”

“Put it on.”

Daniel nodded and rolled on the rubber. Fernando followed suit, slipping off his jeans. He was just pulling them down his thighs when he noticed Christian watching. It was the first time he was watching. But, oddly, he wasn’t leering. It was like he just wanted to _see_ what Fernando looked like naked.

Fernando bit his lip before he completely removed his clothes. The only sign that Christian appreciated the sight was when he smiled and nodded, before turning back to his laptop.

“Come here and put that mouth to good use,” Daniel ordered. The authority sent chills down Fernando’s spine.

He eagerly started to suck on Daniel’s engorged member, taking what he could in his mouth. What was left, he wrapped his fingers around it and started stroking.

Daniel reclined on his elbows and dropped his head back, moaning, “Good boy.” He turned his hooded gaze to Christian, who had stopped working to peruse them.

“He’s such a good bitch,” he mewled to his fellow Dane.

Encouraged, Fernando pushed down harder, trying to swallow more and more of Daniel. It would be much harder to deep-throat him, and he would have to take it slow, but he couldn’t pace himself. He excitedly sucked on Daniel’s cock until it got too difficult to breathe. Daniel, for his part, tried to keep still for Fernando.

Fernando slurped around Daniel’s cock, the saliva smearing against his lips and chin. He was so horny, he rubbed his erection against the firm mattress, trying to get some friction on it. God, he wished someone would touch him.

Suddenly, he caught a blur from the corner of his eye. Christian stood up and approached the bed. Fernando’s heart started beating double-time. Was Christian going to…?

But the writer just circled the bed, almost the same way Carra did when he studied the angles in a shoot. Daniel grinned up at him and rolled his hips lasciviously, for effect.

Then, Christian spoke – in Danish. Whatever he said made Daniel laugh, nod obediently and sit up.

Fernando scrambled up too, panicking. “What’s wrong?”

Christian absently brushed aside the blonde hair matted on Fernando’s sweaty forehead. “Nothing’s wrong. You’re doing great.”

“Christian just called me a selfish bastard and told me to start giving not receiving,” Daniel added. He reached for a tube of lube on the night table.

A delicious tingle of excitement electrified Fernando’s body. He lay back against the pillows and bent his legs at the knee, watching Daniel warm the lube in his hands. He talked to Christian the entire time he was preparing. The low tones of their voices, the gravelly syllables of their language – even just the sight of the two young men standing there, while he was laid out naked in front of them…

“Daniel!” Fernando groaned impatiently, kicking out one foot against the mattress.

Christian snickered and made one more comment at Daniel, but he backed off right after. He didn’t return to his desk, though. He perched on a nearby table, nursing his wine again.

Fernando pouted as Daniel straddled him. “Why are you paying attention to Christian and not me?”

Daniel grinned. He bent down to lick the other boy’s lips. “Believe me, the both of us are paying very close attention to you.”

Fernando glanced at Christian, and true enough, the writer was watching them – him – now.

A slick sensation up his backside pulled his attention back to Daniel. Fernando sighed in pleasure as Daniel slid his cock teasingly between his butt cheeks, pressing the head against the pucker but not enough to breach. 

“Just push it in,” Fernando coaxed.

“Just wait.” Daniel slipped in one finger, taking his time stretching Fernando, before it was two fingers. It took forever and a day before he added another.

“You’re never this slow,” Fernando whined, moving his ass against Daniel’s hand.

“You’re never this impatient,” Daniel answered back.

But Fernando knew – Daniel was drawing this out on purpose. It was working. The ache was balling up at the pit of Fernando’s stomach, and he was getting more frustrated, more fiery.

He pulled Daniel close to him, nails digging into his back, and he started provoking him. “Put your cock in me, Daniel, come on,” he purred, tongue flicking against Daniel’s ear. “Just drive it in there. You said I was your bitch.”

Daniel finally lined his cock against Fernando’s entrance and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushed the head in. Fernando groaned at the penetration. “You said you wanted me to remember the way you fucked me. I remember. God, I remember. I’ve never been fucked that hard.”

Daniel kept the same measured pace as he pushed in inch by inch. But Fernando’s words had an effect on him. Whatever restraint he had in his hips, he lost elsewhere. His hands flew all over Fernando’s body, touching and grasping him where he could: neck, cheeks, thighs, hips. His teeth ran marks along Fernando’s shoulders, and his tongue traced Fernando’s collarbone.

Fernando slipped into Spanish. He wasn’t a natural at dirty talk, but the knowledge that Daniel couldn’t understand him made him more brazen. He talked up a storm and talked like a slut. His mother would have been ashamed of him. He let the Spanish words roll off his mouth – they soared with every scream and fell with every sigh.

Daniel stared at Fernando’s parched lips and the way they moved as he spoke and cursed. His strokes were still long and slow, but they weren’t as smooth now. He faltered every time he drove deep into Fernando and the boy cried out throatily.

He so badly wanted to get himself off already, but he had other plans.

“On all fours,” Daniel instructed.

Fernando got on his hands and knees, and Daniel had to groan at the sight of the Spaniard’s ass in the air, pink and glistening with lube. He gave it a hearty slap.

Fernando buried his face in the pillows and readied himself. When Daniel fucked him in this position, it was usually for the home run.

Daniel slipped in again – “Holy fuck, how can you be tight again?” – and he moved faster now. He gripped Fernando’s hips and forced him back to meet his thrusts. Their damp skin slapped against each other noisily.

“Do you like this?” Daniel whispered gruffly against Fernando’s ear. “You like being fucked in front of other people?”

Fernando moaned and turned his head so he could meet Daniel’s lips. They kissed sloppily, their lips barely meeting each other because of the violence of their rocking.

“Now, Christian knows just how dirty you can be,” Daniel said. Fernando felt his cock throb even more painfully at the thought. He looked around for the writer.

Christian was still seated atop the desk, his legs crossed in front of him. He must have brought in a third bottle of wine because his glass was full again. His face, it really intrigued Fernando. His expression was calm and serene. His gaze, though, was intense and never left the two boys. And right now, he was staring right back at Fernando.

“Why are you looking at him like that?” Daniel said, reaching around Fernando to touch his weeping cock. “You want him to join, don’t you?”

“No,” Fernando whispered, but it was so faint, even Fernando wasn’t sure he actually said it. He continued staring at the stoic writer. He wondered if he was interested. If he was turned on. If his cock was hard inside those boxers.

Suddenly, Daniel pulled out of Fernando. The Spaniard would have whined in protest, but it lodged in his throat as he saw Christian head for the bed. The tall, blonde Dane dropped his robe and boxer shorts in one, soundless swoosh.

Oh. So he _was_ hard inside those boxers.

Fernando’s heart began pounding so loudly, it rang in his ears.

Christian must have noticed the tension. He ran his hands gently over Fernando’s back. “Are you ok with this?” He asked, hushed, maybe so Daniel wouldn’t hear.

Fernando nodded meekly.

It was slow, at first. Clumsy, even. Fernando had to adjust his position because Christian wasn’t as tall as Daniel. They struggled to find a good angle too, since Christian’s cock was thicker but shorter than Daniel’s.

They found a rhythm soon though, and Christian began fucking Fernando steadily. At first, Fernando couldn’t wrap his head around it – he was having sex with Christian Poulsen. But Christian’s thrusts began picking up pace and the thoughts ebbed away in his mind.

Christian was a quiet fuck, a stark contrast from Daniel. All Fernando could hear from him was his huffs and puffs as he drove his dick into Fernando. And if Daniel was smooth and torturous, Christian was direct and powerful. His frame was large, and his every thrust threw Fernando forward. The Spaniard had to grip the headboard to keep himself in place.

Daniel sat on the edge of the bed so he could view Christian and Fernando up-close. With their faces turned away, they were almost like twins, with the bright blonde hair and the pale skin. It was a disturbing, delicious thought. Daniel touched himself as the two other boys rocked in unison. He was so near.

Suddenly, Christian’s movement turned short and sharp. His thrusts lost their pattern. Fernando moaned – this was his favourite part. When boys approached their orgasms, and their strokes became erratic, and he couldn’t tell anymore if they were pulling out or pushing in, and he couldn’t brace himself because he didn’t know if they were going deep into him. He was just vulnerable and hanging on for dear life as Christian rode him mercilessly.

Christian gripped Fernando’s ass tightly as he drove further into him. Sometimes, he would hit Fernando’s prostate twice in succession, skip a beat, then it would return once, thrice.

“Go on. Come.” Fernando urged.

The writer flipped Fernando onto his back, threw his legs over his shoulders and sliced into him again.

“Faster!” Fernando whimpered, as his body rocked spastically. Christian fucked him like an animal, his hips firing in rapid succession. His composure had long dissolved, and right now, he was just using Fernando’s ass to get himself off. It turned Fernando on – Christian’s unravelling.

Finally, Christian hit his climax with a loud grunt. His thrusts slowed as he milked his cock in Fernando’s ass, down to the very last drop.

The exertion eventually took a toll on him, and he collapsed on the bed next to Fernando, gasping for air.

The second there was space, Daniel climbed over Fernando. He took hold of both their cocks and started jacking them off to their orgasms. It didn’t take much – Fernando’s body was primed to come after the long, slow fuck Daniel made him endure. And Daniel was beside himself with perverse glee, watching Christian take Fernando.

Fernando was bone-tired and he must have fallen asleep right after. They all must have.

When he came to, the room was already dark, illuminated only by the faint light from Christian’s computer screen. Christian was still with them in bed, but his laptop was balanced on his legs, and he was busy typing away. Fernando and Daniel were still intertwined, and the younger boy was still snoring lightly. Fernando tried to sit up, but there was no way he could move without waking up Daniel or disturbing Christian. So, he stayed where he was, closed his eyes and tried to sleep again.

*

It was late at night when they finally left Christian’s apartment. The writer asked them several more questions, and he kept plying them with wine, so they had to wait until Daniel sobered up.

“That was good,” Daniel said as they walked out of the building. He stretched languorously. He loved the way a good round of sex left an ache in his body.

Fernando had to smile. “Yeah. It was,” he admitted. Unexpected, but… good.

They went to the garage where Dan’s motorbike was parked. “To be honest, I half-thought you wouldn’t push through with it.”

“The interview or the sex?” Fernando teased.

Daniel shrugged. “It’s one and the same.”

Fernando blinked – his brain was still slow from sleep and sex. “Wait, so the interview was the sex? I had to sleep with Christian Poulsen? That was the catch?”

“Well,” Daniel laughed, elaborating, “To be specific about it, you had to have sex with me in front of Christian Poulsen – he likes _observing_ – and then he decides if he wants to join in. He’s very picky, actually. But, don’t worry, I knew from the start he would want to fuck you.”

He paused when he realised Fernando had stopped walking. He turned around to look for the Spaniard. Fernando stood rooted on the spot, hands on hips, face stony. Clearly, this wasn’t a joke anymore.

A shiver of dread ran down Daniel’s back. “What’s wrong?”

“This was a set-up all along?” Fernando asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “You told me we were here for an interview, not a… an audition or a performance!” His voice got louder and louder until it was bouncing off the walls of the empty garage.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t want to go through with it!”

Clearly, that was the wrong answer because Fernando turned redder in anger. “So you decided to deceive me instead? You knew that if you got me there, in that moment, I wouldn’t be able to say no anymore!”

Daniel shrugged because Fernando hit the nail on the head. He approached the Spaniard tentatively, “Didn’t you enjoy it, though? You said it was good.”

“That’s not the point!”

Daniel recoiled and took a step away from Fernando. He’s never seen him mad before, and he didn’t have a clue how to manage him. Should he push his case? Should he apologise? Should he just wait it out?

Fernando was seething. How could Daniel lie to him like that, and just for this… this master plan, this end-goal of bagging a project with Fernando? Why was it so important to Daniel? And why was a project with Fernando more important to him than, well, Fernando himself?

“Fuck this,” Fernando spat. He turned to leave.

Daniel ran after him and held him back. “Babe…” he started. He reached out to caress Fernando’s cheek, but the Spaniard swatted his hand away.

Suddenly, Daniel lost any and all his appeal to Fernando. He wondered why it was so clear to him only now.

He wasn’t sexed up, that was it.

Daniel was so alluring, so mesmerising, so hypnotising, in the heat of passion. But now, with the trance gone, Fernando saw this for what it really was: a transaction.

“Let me give you a ride, at least. We can get a drink, talk this through. You can come back to my place,” Daniel murmured.

But Fernando was already walking away. “I can find my own way home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you all get a dash of Sergio Ramos and a huge serving of Christian Poulsen. If you are overwhelmed, if you are baffled, if you are lost, don't worry, I am just as surprised too. I don't even really fancy Poulsen! But he was at the right place at the right time, so he got it, and he got it good.


	13. Your whip's so cold

Xabi was never – _never_ – nervous holding meetings with anyone in Blacklisted. He was the boss, he was the leader of the pack, he was the hand that fed them all.

However, there was something about this meeting with Steven that frayed his nerves just a little bit.

Stevie, while he was not a genius, he wasn’t the dimmest light bulb either. The Scouser knew something was up. He tapped his foot incessantly while he waited for Xabi to finish his emails. 

Xabi refreshed his inbox for the third time, hoping to delay the conversation. After a few more minutes, though, it was clear that no one was going to send him any more messages.

Xabi cleared his throat and folded his arms on the desk. “So.”

“I thought there would be more of us here,” Stevie said. “We’re scheduled for a briefing on my next project with Fernando, aren’t we?”

Those briefings were typically large affairs. Christian should have been there to present the final storyboard; Carra should have been there to discuss his shot list; Dirk would have been there to show the props and costumes.

But, Christian, Carra and Dirk were all absent. Conspicuously, Fernando was absent too.

“About that.”

Stevie moved to the edge of his seat, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“We’ve had to defer the timelines on your movie,” Xabi explained. “Fernando has a small – very small – project on the side.”

“A project on the side?”

Throughout the entire conversation, Xabi had looked Stevie straight in the eye. He prided himself in his ability to confront his employees, man-to-man, face-to-face. He had to avert his his gaze, though, when he finally admitted: “A project with Daniel.”

Stevie positively exploded out of his chair. “What?!” He yelled.

Xabi stood up too, raising his hands to calm the other man, “It’s just a 10-minute clip. It’s practically an audition piece.”

“An audition for what? A permanent partnership?” Stevie demanded, livid.

“No! Nothing like that!”

“You said you wouldn’t pair them up!”

“I didn’t want to!” Xabi yelped. “But Fernando asked for it. And I can’t say no to him, you know that.”

Stevie was stunned. “What?... But, why would he do that?”

Xabi shrugged. The two men slowly sank back down to their chairs.

Stevie rubbed his face in disbelief. He expected Daniel to pull off something like this – he’s been looking for a new partner, and once he’s set his eyes on someone, it was hard to convince him otherwise. But he didn’t think Fernando would go along with the plot.

“An entire movie?”

“It’s just a 10-minute clip. If they find a story to work with.”

Daniel was close to the writers, especially Christian, Stevie remembered. This project wouldn’t be so difficult for him to complete.

“If this project bombs, they won’t have any more reason to ask to work together,” Xabi said.

“But if it succeeds…” Stevie pointed out. Even Xabi wouldn’t turn down a good, popular, bankable pairing, no matter how he loathed it.

Xabi threw his hands up in the air. “It’s a big if.”

Stevie shook his head in annoyance. He didn’t enjoy putting his fate in somebody else’s hands.

“I told you so many times that you had to fix this.”

The Scouser frowned. Xabi told him that once. And by then, it was too late – Daniel and Fernando had already slept with each other. In fact, the main reason why he and Fernando were even fighting was because Xabi toyed with them endlessly.

So, no, this wasn’t – _entirely_ – Stevie’s fault, thank you very much.

“Whatever,” Stevie said, standing up and heading for the door.

Xabi’s forehead furrowed. “Whatever? What does that even mean? Are you going to talk to Fernando or not?” He demanded.

Stevie threw his hands up in resignation, but he kept on walking out.

Honestly, he didn’t know what to do. The last time he talked to Fernando, things didn’t end so well. He had wanted to apologise to him about Xabi, but the conversation swiftly turned into a confrontation about Daniel, and that only made matters worse.

Fernando had told him to stay away from him. And since then, Stevie has. No calls, no texts. This meeting would have been the first time they’d be in the same room.

Stevie knew it was his responsibility to take the first step, seek Fernando out and say sorry. He had said some ugly things. But he just couldn’t. He was hurt too. He went on one professional date with Xabi – to a company party, even. And that very night, Fernando slept with Daniel the first chance he got.

Just the memory of it made Stevie bristle with anger. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t realise where his feet were taking him. One second, he was storming out of Xabi’s office, and the next he was… right outside Carra’s production room.

“Huh,” Stevie huffed to himself. It had been a long time since he’s been in this part of the Blacklisted building.

As a newbie, he always hung out here. Carra was one of the few people in the company that also hailed from Liverpool, so they immediately clicked. Stevie used to watch him all the time, going through raw footage, splicing the film and putting the movie together piece by piece.

In a way, it gave him an eye – Carra always said that was part of why he was one of the best actors in Blacklisted. He knew what the movie looked like from behind the camera.

The production rooms were nestled in the basement of Blacklisted, away from the hustle and bustle of the office. The lights were dim, the corridors were narrow and the walls were thick so that noise wouldn’t filter into the recordings.

Stevie walked to the production room Carra always favoured – the fourth one from the elevators. He never let anyone else use it, and he left his files and films covering every inch of space so that only he could work there.

Stevie peeked through the small window pane on the door, and when he was sure Carra wasn’t in the middle of a recording or a rendering, he pushed the door open.

“Fuck off!” Carra growled, busily going through a stack of tapes.

“Hey,” Stevie greeted.

Carra looked up in surprise. “Stevie! What brings you down here?”

Stevie shrugged and plopped down on the chair next to the director. He hesitated before admitting, “Xabi is getting to me.”

Carra put down his tapes. “Well, Xabi has a habit of doing that to people.”

“More than usual now.”

Carra shrugged. “It’s because you let him get away with everything.”

The actor scoffed. “Who knows how to say no to Xabi?”

“I do,” Carra answered, point-blank.

“That’s only because you can yell as loud as him.”

Carra shook his head and laughed. “You’re so misguided.”

 _Misguided – big word._ Stevie spun his chair around. “Explain.”

“Look, there are very few people in this company that Xabi respects. Me – if I do say so myself -- Sami from Distribution, and you. He knows we know what we’re doing. And he knows he won’t be able to find anyone better to replace us. So, yes, I can say no to Xabi. And you can too. He’s not going to like it, but he’s not going to die either.”

Stevie spun around again. Carra huffed and jammed his foot against the wheels of Stevie’s chair to stop him from moving.

“You’re giving me a headache.”

“Sorry. Are you busy?”

“I was.”

“With?”

Carra surveyed his messy table, but he smiled crookedly. “I actually think you’ll like this. I have so much extra footage from your first shoot with Fernando, I want to make a 10-minute clip and offer it for free on the website – if Xabi agrees.”

“I thought our movie was in the members-only section?”

“It is. But it’s sold so well, I actually think it can be a great teaser for all these Blacklisted lurkers and visitors who haven’t bought a membership yet.”

“Really? Our video?” Stevie couldn’t keep the pride from his tone.

“Yeah. It’s been on top of our lists for months now -- most-watched, most-purchased, most-downloaded… you name it.”

“Wow.” Stevie whistled.

“I think this could actually be a cult classic.”

Stevie had no idea. His friends told him the movie was great, but they always said that. He’s seen the movie, sure, but he never paid close attention to it. Stevie never watched his movies more than once. He felt it made him overthink his work, and acting was about taking it from the gut.

“...Did you like our movie?” Stevie blurted out. Carra was the best indicator. He was a tough audience, just because he’s made so much porn already.

Carra didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

Carra stared at Stevie strangely, but he explained anyway. “See, there’s good porn where you have two hot men having sex with each other. But great porn is when those two men have chemistry. You know they want to have sex with each other, and you could almost think that the porn isn’t staged. Like, it could be happening somewhere, somehow, right now, and you’re watching them.”

“You and Fernando have amazing chemistry,” the director said matter-of-factly. “You almost came when he blew you, remember? When has that ever happened?”

Stevie’s face burned. “Fuck off.”

Carra burst out laughing. “Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”

“Nothing,” Stevie mumbled. It was a good thing Carra didn’t probe. “Anyway, I’ll leave you to your work.”

*

Fernando struggled to keep his attention on his lecture notes, but he was distracted by the soft thrum of his phone vibrating inside his backpack. He draped his jacket over his bag to block out the sound, but it was useless. He wasn’t even sure if his phone was actually ringing or he was just hearing things. Daniel had been calling him the entire day in school, and it felt like the sound had embedded in his mind already.

He peeked inside the pocket of his backpack to check who the caller was. Yup, it was still Daniel. He zipped his bag shut.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Daniel. In fact, he missed him. Daniel became somewhat like a friend to him these past few weeks. And of course, he was a great shag – a fabulous shag, actually, one for the books.

But no matter how amazing Daniel could be, Fernando knew that he could also be just as horrible – he crashed Fernando’s first shoot, almost harassed him too, and most recently, he tricked Fernando into sleeping with Christian Poulsen. _Christian Poulsen!_

Fernando liked to think that Daniel didn’t mean to be that way though. He was just a headstrong boy who could be too sharp for his own good. He knew what he wanted, and he mapped out the quickest, most efficient way to get it, regardless of the consequences.

The instant the professor dismissed them, Fernando jumped to his feet. He was the first one out the door. He fished his phone out of his bag. Daniel was calling again. He stared at the screen as he walked down the hallway, debating whether or not he should pick up.

It didn’t matter. When Fernando stepped out of the building, Daniel was there, waiting by the curb. Fernando screeched to a stop, almost tripping on his feet.

“Hi,” Daniel greeted brightly.

“Uh, hi.”

“I figured since this was your last class, you would be starving. Let’s grab something to eat.”

Daniel was acting so casually, like they didn’t just come from a fight. It made Fernando feel uneasy. “I have a lot of studying to do tonight. Maybe next time.”

Fernando stepped to the side so he could go his own way, but Daniel blocked him. “Wait,” he said. “Is this still about the last time? With what happened with Christian?”

Fernando’s jaw dropped a little. He crossed his arms over his chest. Was he supposed to have gotten over it? He wasn’t angry anymore, but he would still have appreciated an apology from Daniel.

Daniel reached out and gripped Fernando’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and said, “I’m sorry about what happened.”

A smile crept on Fernando’s face. See? Daniel could be a good guy.

“It was all just a misunderstanding,” Daniel said.

And it all came crashing down again.

“A misunderstanding?” Fernando spluttered. How was it a misunderstanding when Daniel admitted that he had tricked Fernando into sleeping with Christian so they could get a story for their project?

Daniel shrugged. “I thought you would be okay with it. You seemed pretty up for it when it was happening.”

Fernando scoffed in disbelief.

“What?” Daniel asked.

“Never mind,” Fernando said, waving his hand dismissively. He didn’t have the energy to explain himself to Daniel. “Like I said, I have to study tonight.”

Daniel watched as Fernando walked away. “Wait! We’re still pushing through with our project, though, right? Fernando!”

*

Fernando didn’t really have anything to study. School was winding down, and he was finished revising for his subjects. With Daniel out of the picture for tonight, though, it looked like he would just have to stay at home.

All thoughts of a long, lazy lie-in flew out of his mind the moment he entered the flat and found Sergio there, all alone. Something was not right.

“Hi,” Sergio greeted. He put aside his magazine and stood up from the couch.

First of all, Sergio never greeted him.

“Uh, hi,” Fernando answered hesitantly. “Where’s Gago?”

Sergio snorted. “Oh, he has to prepare for a big exam tomorrow.”

Second, that was a complete and utter lie – just as bad as the one Fernando gave Daniel earlier. Gago was in the same course as Fernando, and they didn’t have any exams until next, next week.

“O-kay,” Fernando said. He dropped his backpack on the counter and hung his jacket on a chair. “Have you eaten? I was thinking of getting food delivered.”

Sergio followed Fernando into the kitchen, “Sure.”

Fernando tried to keep the confusion from registering on his face. What was wrong with his flatmate? Why was he so civil? Could he still be hung up over that blowjob?

Fernando distracted himself by looking for their take-out menus. “Is there anything you want in particular? There’s Japanese, Thai, Chinese...”

Sergio paced around behind him. “Hmm. Whatever.”

Okay, that was more like Sergio. Fernando relaxed just a bit. He continued rummaging around the drawers. “Ooh, Taco Bell,” he said, pulling out a crumpled, stained flyer.

Sergio reached around him to swat the paper away. “Actually, there is one thing I want.”

Fernando’s blood ran cold – words like those, they never carried a good intention. Sergio placed his hands on the other boy’s hips and moulded his body against his.

_Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit._

Fernando squirmed out of his grasp. “I think I also have a flyer from Pizza Hut. Do you want Pizza Hut? A pizza sounds good,” he babbled, half-running to the other end of their tiny kitchen.

“Pizza? Really?” Sergio smirked as he cornered Fernando easily. Fernando squeaked like a trapped mouse, making Sergio laugh. It was a deep, confident rumble from his gut. He placed a teasing kiss just below Fernando’s ear.

“What do you say we eat _after_ the sex?” Sergio whispered teasingly.

Fernando’s eyes fluttered shut. “Well, I… You…” He struggled to complete a thought.

Sergio buried his nose in Fernando’s hair then ran it down the side of his neck, taking in Fernando’s scent like a predator toying with its prey. He placed three kisses on one collarbone and the same on the other. Then, he dipped his tongue in the hollow of Fernando’s neck, leaving a hot trail as he licked all the way up to Fernando’s chin.

By instinct, Fernando tilted his head back to give Sergio more access. All the while, though, he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How many times has he been seduced – although not like this, not this far gone – in this very kitchen, only for Sergio to leave him hanging, with a punch line thrown in -- “Could you do the dishes too?” or “We’re out of milk, don’t forget when you do the groceries” – to add insult to injury.

By his cues, Sergio didn’t look like he was going to stop any time soon. He pushed Fernando down on a chair and spread his legs. Fernando breathed in sharply, watching fixatedly as Sergio ran his hands up the older man’s thighs, feeling the rough fabric of denim beneath his palms.

“How about we start right where we left off the last time?” Sergio grinned. He pulled Fernando’s shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

“And this time we can go all the way,” Sergio added.

“Wait, but…” Fernando squirmed under Sergio, trying to cover his body. “What about Gago?”

“What about him?” Sergio pinned back Fernando’s arms and started scattering kisses over his bare chest.

“You can’t cheat on him,” Fernando tried to reason out. He couldn’t believe he cared. Gago was an even bigger asshole than Sergio.

Sergio raked his teeth against Fernando’s nipple. Fernando whimpered, body arching off the chair. “Don’t worry, Gago won’t find out. And even if he does, he wouldn’t believe it.”

The Sevillan leaned in and captured Fernando’s lips in a deep, searing kiss. Fernando had a feeling Sergio did that just to get him to stop talking.

“No, Sergio, wait,” Fernando murmured weakly, but the younger boy ignored him. He pulled away and held Sergio back. This time, he spoke with more conviction, “We shouldn’t do this.”

Sergio stopped. He put his hands on his hips and scoffed. “Where is this coming from?”

“What?”

“It’s not like you gave it a second thought the last time. You’re the one who gave me a blowjob without a care in the world.”

Fernando’s jaw dropped. “That’s not – ” But it was true. He just never thought of it that way before.

Sergio was right. He didn’t think of Gago then. All he thought of was Sergio and himself and his needs and his ego and his revenge. By god, what was wrong with him? When did he become that person who made passes at guys he knew were already taken? Sergio and Gago were hardly the paragon of love and kindness, but they were a stable, functioning, even healthy couple.

“I’m sorry,” Fernando said. He pushed Sergio off him.

“I didn’t mean that like it was a bad thing!”

“No,” Fernando said firmly. He stood up and moved away from his roommate. Sergio stared at him in disbelief. Fernando couldn’t blame him. He’s been so unpredictable lately and not just to Sergio. To Daniel, to Stevie, and even Xabi.

He was a mess.

Sergio took a step forward, tried to reason out. “Fernando, you’re overthinking this.”

Fernando had to snicker. “Actually, I haven’t been doing much thinking lately.” He moved back, just to keep the distance between the two of them. “I should go.”

His t-shirt lay in a crumpled ball by Sergio’s feet. It didn’t seem like a good idea to cross paths with his roommate right now – he still looked ready to pounce – so Fernando just grabbed a spare sweatshirt from their coatrack and slipped it on. Then, he bundled out the door before Sergio could say another word.

It wasn’t until he was out in the streets and it was beginning to rain that he realised, he had nowhere to go.

*

Stevie stretched out on his couch. The rain was raging outside, the heating was up, and he had the rest of the night ahead of him to ponder on how to win Fernando back. Things had taken a turn for the worse, it seemed.

_Christian just confirmed that he’s writing a story for Daniel and Fernando.  
 **Sender: Xabi Alonso**_

Stevie read and reread the text message. His mood grew darker with every time he did. With a story down, it wouldn’t take Daniel and Fernando long to get to work.

This was really happening, and he didn’t have the slightest idea how to fix it.

He scrolled through his phonebook to Fernando’s number – he hasn’t contacted him in a while. He stared at it for a long time, just wondering what he should say.

There was no bulletproof reason to stop Fernando from working with Daniel. Heck, he could work with anyone. There was no rule in Blacklisted that you had to stay with one partner.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Fernando had just chosen somebody else. Somebody who wasn’t as underhanded as Daniel. Somebody who didn’t have a chip on his shoulder, a grudge against Stevie.

But he tried to imagine Fernando working with another partner and he realized, with a shiver down his spine, that he didn’t like that either.

Thankfully, a knock on the door stopped him from going down that road and answering some uncomfortable questions.

He leapt to the door, eager for a distraction. What he saw next pulled the rug out from under his feet.

Fernando stood at his doorstep. He peered at Stevie tentatively from under the hood of his sweatshirt.

“Hi.”

“Hi there.”

*

“Holy mother of…!” Mikel gasped as he saw Xabi still inside his office. He thought his boss had left already. The building was practically empty.

Xabi cracked up a little at the sight of Mikel spooked, clutching his chest. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

Mikel shook his head although his heart was still pounding a mile a minute. “Not at all. I was just going to clean up here before heading home.”

Xabi gave a noncommittal grunt. Mikel studied his boss curiously. His computer was shut down, his planner was closed and his mobile, oddly silent.

“Why are you still here?” he asked as he fixed the papers scattered on Xabi’s coffee table.

“I’m waiting for the rain to stop.”

Mikel raised an eyebrow. Xabi drove an SUV, one that wouldn’t even be bothered with a drizzle or a downpour or a deluge. “Okay, how about the truth this time?”

Xabi glared at him.

“Clearly, something’s bothering you.”

“How do you know?”

“Please. You may be able to fool a lot of people, but not me.”

Xabi had to smile. There was no one in Blacklisted quite as attuned to him as Mikel. He sighed and admitted. “I think I fucked up.”

Mikel’s forehead furrowed. His boss rarely admitted a mistake, much less a big mistake. “What’s wrong?”

Xabi explained what happened with Daniel, Fernando and Stevie. Mikel listened intently, tried not to interrupt.

Once Xabi finished, he started rattling off question after question: “Do you think Stevie and Fernando could ever get back together? Do they even want to? Fernando has Daniel now, and Stevie… It didn’t seem like he cared until he heard about this new project.”

“And do you think Daniel genuinely likes Fernando beyond this partnership? I’m suspicious. Or am I just cynical? Because I don’t think Fernando can see through Daniel’s motivations. Oh, god, this is exciting!” he clapped his hands. Office gossip was delicious – even more so when your office was a porn company.

Xabi laughed. “Honestly, I can’t even begin to answer any of those questions.”

“Then why are you troubling yourself over this?” His assistant pointed out.

Xabi heaved a long-suffering sigh. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “I just feel responsible for it.”

Mikel opened his mouth to protest, but Xabi silenced him with a sharp slice of the hand. Mikel immediately pursed his lips together like a well-trained dog.

“Stevie and Fernando were getting along well until I interfered, you know that. Looking back, I don’t even remember why I did it,” Xabi snickered. “It was just a fun idea at that time.”

“Ah, as with many other things we have come to regret.”

The two Spaniards laughed and descended into a companionable silence. Mikel noticed, though, that Xabi was still restless. He perched on his boss’ desk and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t give yourself too much grief about it. You never know – maybe even if you hadn’t stepped in, Stevie still could have fucked it up all by himself. He’s very capable of doing that.”

But Xabi ignored his reasoning. “Maybe this is my karma for being a horrible boss.”

“You’re not a hor – ”

Xabi shot him a thunderous look.

“What?”

“Please. I’m most horrible to you.”

Mikel could feel the blood rushing to his face, all the way until the tips of his ears. He didn’t hear an apology there somewhere, but the admission was good enough.

Xabi fidgeted in his seat. Mikel’s giddy reaction was making him feel self-conscious. He grabbed his mobile and pretended to be busy.

“For what it’s worth, you’re not so bad,” Mikel said. “When you try.”

Xabi kept his eyes on his phone, fiddling senselessly with the buttons.

Mikel slid off the desk. He knew he’d lost Xabi already – he was stiff and fenced off. He tried to keep the atmosphere light again. “Come on, pack up. The rain’s let up.”

Xabi nodded obediently. “You’re not going out tonight?”

“Nah. I’m probably staying in and sleeping early. It’s great bed weather.”

“No date?”

Mikel laughed, although it carried an undertone of anxiety. Every time they talked about Xabi’s brother, it didn’t end well. “He’s out of town. I thought you knew – he’s going back home for a couple of days.”

Xabi froze as he was placing his laptop inside his bag. “Really?”

“Yeah. He said his parents missed him,” his assistant recounted, smiling fondly at the memory of his lover.

Mikel could be out of town, Xabi reckoned. He hasn’t seen him at home the past couple of days, and the maids told him his brother had driven off carrying his overnight bags.

But that Mikel went back to Spain? Because their parents asked him to visit? He had a hard time accepting that.

They only ever visited their family in the Basque Country during the holidays and their parents’ anniversary. And whenever Mikel had personal business in Spain and he did drop by their childhood home, no fail, Xabi would be getting a call from his mother, demanding that he come back too, they never see him, is he still running that porn company and why couldn’t he be more like his older brother and visit regularly?

Xabi glanced at his assistant, debated for a long time whether he should bring this up. He wasn’t in the mood for an argument – this would inevitably end in an argument – but, he was in this questionable, vulnerable mode where he wanted to be… good.

“Are you sure Mikel went back to Spain?” The moment the words left his mouth, Xabi wanted to punch himself. He had meant for the question to be genial, curious. Not sarcastic.

Miki’s thick, dark eyebrows knitted together. “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We’ve never made a trip to Spain just because our parents asked us. And if he was there, my mother would have called to tell me.”

Miki snorted. “Maybe it’s just because you’re…”

Xabi challenged. “What?”

Miki flinched. “I just mean, you’re not close to your parents.”

“Yeah, and neither is Mikel.”

His assistant shook his head in disgust. “What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t think he’s in Spain, that’s all.”

“And why would he lie to me?”

“I don’t know, why would he lie to you?”

The truth was, Mikel was involved with a lot of people. He was bored easily. He flitted from one boy to another. That he stayed this long with Miki was an achievement. Xabi was amazed by it and for a time, he wondered if he would be the one to finally tie down Mikel. He had his doubts though. This just confirmed it now.

His assistant stared at him, hurt and insulted, but Xabi held his ground.

“I can’t believe you would say that. You never liked us together.”

“Look, the truth hurts, but…”

Miki held up a hand. “Don’t.”

Xabi sighed. He reached out to touch Miki, but he recoiled. 

“I’ll go ahead,” his assistant said coldly. “Good night.”

 

*

Fernando Torres was in his apartment. Drenched and dripping rain water all over his hardwood floors.

Stevie wanted to rub his eyes to make sure this was all real. Maybe this was just a projection of his imagination; he _had_ been thinking about Fernando a lot lately.

Fernando shuffled awkwardly, the sleeves of his ubiquitous Nike sweatshirt pulled over his hands and his rubber shoes squeaking.

“Come on,” Stevie broke the silence. “Let me get you some dry clothes.”

He led the way to his bedroom while Fernando followed meekly.

“How bad was the rain?”

“About as bad as how I look.”

“You look great,” Stevie said with a wink. Fernando let himself smile. The heating in the apartment felt so good against his cold face.

Stevie took out a fresh towel from the bathroom and handed it to Fernando. “What were you doing out in this weather without an umbrella?” He eyed Fernando’s cotton sweatshirt – dark grey and heavy with all the rainwater it absorbed. “Or even a decent jacket?”

“I was in a rush to leave.” Fernando said as he peeled off his wet sweatshirt. Stevie glanced at the boy’s bare chest.

“Clearly.”

Fernando covered his body with the towel. He forgot that he left his t-shirt behind in the apartment. “It’s not what you think.”

Stevie held up his hands. “I’m not thinking anything.” He spun around and headed for his closet. He could feel Fernando staring at him helplessly.

“It’s not Daniel – ”

Stevie interrupted. “It’s okay.” He held back a sigh. When Fernando showed up at his doorstep unannounced, he thought they would naturally fall back into the way they were. Now, he realised, it wouldn’t be so easy. He took a deep breath and willed himself to remain calm, not to get so riled up at the idea of Daniel and Fernando together.

“Here you go,” Stevie said. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a couple of shirts. “Maybe these can fit you.”

“Thanks,” Fernando said.

“You can change here,” Stevie said, picking up Fernando’s discarded clothes. “I’ll just toss these in the wash.”

Once Fernando was alone in the room, he let himself breathe easy. It was comforting to be back here. The room was warm, the sheets smelled powder-fresh, and the carpet was soft underneath his bare feet.

He pulled on Stevie’s clothes, and they smelled just like him. He tugged at the hem and held it to his nose, taking a long whiff. It put a goofy grin on his face.

Once he was ready, he returned to the living room. He could hear Stevie rummaging around in the kitchen.

“Do you need help?” Fernando asked.

“No, no. Make yourself at home.”

Fernando settled into a lounge chair and looked around. Stevie’s apartment looked so different when you were there to stay, not to shag -- Phil Collins was playing on the radio; Stevie’s mobile phone was left carelessly on the coffee table, still attached to the USB cord, but the charger was missing; the newspapers were scattered on the couch, the front pages still crisp and neat, but the sports pages, crumpled and leafed-through.

Even Stevie was different. He was in this godawful Liverpool kit that made him look like a right chav, his hair was unstyled and falling flat over his forehead, and he was humming along faintly to the sappy music.

“It turns out, I’ve run out of tea, but I do have hot chocolate,” Stevie announced. He set two steaming mugs on the table and dropped onto the couch.

“You? Hot chocolate?” Fernando was incredulous.

“My brother must have brought it over when I babysat his kids a while back.”

“You? Babysit?” Fernando teased even more.

“Hey, I can be nurturing!”

Fernando had to relent. To be fair, Stevie took good care of him when he started out in Blacklisted. They’ve hit rough patches since then, but those couldn’t take away from the fact that he was a great deal of help to Fernando when he needed it the most.

“So, what’s troubling you?”

Fernando put on his best confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, first, you were wandering around in the rain. Second, you’re _actually_ enjoying my Phil Collins CD. And now, you’re curled up in a ball on my couch like an abandoned puppy.”

“Okay, I wasn’t wandering around in the rain,” Fernando pointed out. “Sergio was just hounding me at home, so I hurried out before I could even put on my t-shirt.” He enunciated the last part clearly, not-so-subtly stressing that he did not come from Daniel’s place.

Stevie’s mood visibly lightened. He relaxed against the sofa, his worry lines creased less. “Sergio hounding you isn’t new. There must be something else on your mind.”

Fernando tried to laugh it off, but the Scouser just stared at him expectantly. He picked up his mug and began to stir his hot chocolate, blowing at the surface to help it cool. When he had delayed long enough, and Stevie was still looking at him, he finally admitted.

“I’ve just been a mess,” Fernando said with a sigh.

Stevie’s eyebrows rose. “That’s loaded.”

Fernando ran the tips of his fingers along the warm rim of his mug. “It’s just that ever since I started in Blacklisted, I feel like I’ve been on this rollercoaster ride, and I can’t take control of it.”

“It’s been great, of course, I don’t regret joining. I’ve met so many new people, I earn enough money…”

“You get lots of sex,” Stevie pointed out.

“Yes, that too,” Fernando said. “But fuck, when you’re down, you can be really low.”

He continued, “Do you know why Sergio was on my case today? Because I gave him a blowjob. It didn’t even mean anything. He was just bitching at me one day, and I just gave him a blowjob out of spite, even though he had a boyfriend and he didn’t ask for it. So now, he wants us to continue fooling around with each other, and I don’t think I can do that.”

“And Daniel,” Fernando groaned, “is even worse. I like him, I do.” (Stevie flinched.) “But when he’s not amazing, he’s horrid, and I loathe him just as much as I like him. Did you know that we had sex for Christian Poulsen because Daniel wanted him to write a story for us? And that was before we had sex with Christian Poulsen.”

Stevie’s jaw dropped. “Okay, maybe…” He struggled to form a complete sentence.

“I have become a horrible cliché,” Fernando said, wrapping up his speech.

Stevie took a long draw from his drink, the heat of the chocolate soothing him from the overwhelming amount of information Fernando just revealed.

“Okay, you have to calm down,” he began. That alone made Fernando do the opposite, a pout instantly forming on his face, a whimper falling from his lips.

“No, just calm down,” Stevie insisted. “No one gets to have a nice, steady ride when they start out in this kind of job. Not an executive assistant like Mikel, not a bit-part actor like Lucas, and definitely not someone like you who’s shot to fame in such a short period of time. So just calm down. This is all normal.”

The Spaniard didn’t seem convinced. He hugged his knees closer to his chest and sank deeper against the cushions. Suddenly he missed his old sweatshirt

Stevie sighed and approached Fernando on the lounge chair. There wasn’t space for two, so he perched on the arm.

“Look, everyone has a period when they act out,” he said. “I think we all have a hard time reconciling our old, normal self with this new identity as a porn star.”

Fernando snickered. “Even you?”

Stevie smiled. At least Fernando was responding now. “Yes, even me. And it takes a while, but you learn either to keep those two personalities separate from each other or to find a reasonable middle ground.”

“But I’ve become a slut.”

“You are not a slut,” Stevie didn’t miss a second dismissing it. “Trust me, you’re one of the most normal, well-balanced people in Blacklisted. I’m willing to bet that in the middle of this goddamn storm, someone’s still getting their freak on in that office.”

Fernando laughed. An actual laugh. Praise the lord.

Stevie returned to his spot on the couch and they sipped their hot chocolate in silence for a while. Fernando watched him discreetly. The last time they got along this well was when they first met each other and they had to shoot their first film.

They were so upfront with each other then – no ulterior motives, no suspicions, no facades.

But then, he began to like Stevie and, he assumed, Stevie began to like him too. And like all people, that meant they began acting like the worst possible versions of themselves and then some. It was the stupidest thing.

For one horrifying moment, he wondered if Stevie was just being nice to him because he expected something in return. He’s never been in his place as anything more than a fuck buddy. Stevie had made it pretty clear too that it was _just_ sex.

“About what you said earlier,” Fernando spoke up. “Isn’t that what you didn’t like about me? That I was so normal? You said I was vanilla.”

Stevie froze like a deer caught in the headlights. He toyed with the handle of his mug.

“It was wrong for me to say that.”

Fernando shrugged. It didn’t hurt. Much.

“And no, you’re not as… vanilla… as you seem. But even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Stevie stammered. He added haltingly. “I like that you’re nothing like the people in Blacklisted.”

Fernando pretended to be fascinated with the tassel on the throw pillow. His face burned up like anything.

Stevie stood up and collected their used cups and went to the kitchen to put them in the dishwasher. Was that a sign that their night was over? His clothes and shoes should be dry by now, Fernando thought, and Sergio should have found some other distraction at home.

When Stevie returned, though, he said: “Ready to go to bed?”

Fernando nodded. First, he was relieved that Stevie wasn’t sending him away. And then, the realisation struck him. Did Stevie expect them to have sex? Was this the start of foreplay? He had no problem with that in principle. But right now, with his baggy sweatpants and his natty hair and his hot chocolate moustache, he just wasn’t it the mood.

They headed to Stevie’s bedroom again. Fernando tried to rev himself up. Maybe the sex would be good for him. He did have a lot of angst to expend.

But, when they got there, Stevie went ahead to the bathroom. He heard drawers being opened and closed, things tossed around. Was he looking for condoms? Lube? Weren’t those in the night table?

Stevie came out with a small toiletry kit. It had “Holiday Inn” stamped on it. “This is new. You can use it.”

Fernando just took it wordlessly, still confused.

Then, Stevie started bringing out extra pillows from the cabinet.

“What…? Are you…?”

Stevie looked up. “Hm?” He fluffed up the pillows and fixed the bed.

Fernando shook his head. “Nothing, I…” What the fuck was wrong with him. He backtracked. “I meant, do you want me to take the couch? I don’t want to impose.”

Stevie just laughed. He tossed Fernando the last pillow. “You’re crazy. Just stay here.”

“Thanks. I know I shouldn’t be here.”

Stevie shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m glad you’re here.”


	14. You wear nothing but you wear it so well

Mikel never took his brother for a Robbie Williams fan but there he was in his room, his iPod mounted on the speakers, blaring a particularly loud version of “Rock DJ.” He bopped his head and mouthed the words to the song as he sat naked on his bed, writing on his notebook.

It was a particularly funny sight, or a particularly sexy one. Mikel was twisted like that – he could find the most erotic things in people, even his brother. Especially his brother.

He knocked on the door several times to get Xabi’s attention, but the younger boy just kept on working. Mikel marched over and tapped Xabi on his bare – very bare – shoulder.

“Jesus!” Xabi almost jumped a foot off the bed. He scrambled for the remote and turned down the music. “Don’t creep on me like that!”

Mikel grinned. “I’m back. Did you miss me?”

“I was having the time of my life without you here,” Xabi smiled back sweetly.

“Ah, you don’t mean that.”

“I really do.”

Xabi casually reached back to pull the bed sheet over his body. That simple action should not have been so fraught with meaning. They’ve known each other and lived with each other their entire lives – they discovered their father’s porn stash together when they were 12, they exchanged notes on the girls and, later, boys they saw in high school, and they’ve walked in on each other in various states of undress countless times.

They were brothers, for crying out loud. This was all normal.

Except instead of making some wisecrack about Xabi’s nudity – “Put some clothes on, you’ll scare the help!” – Mikel chose to rake his eyes over the younger boy’s body before he could cover it up. And instead of leaving, Mikel plopped down on the bed beside Xabi.

If Xabi was uncomfortable, he didn’t show it. He put aside his notebook where he’d been listing down possible plots for new Blacklisted projects. “So, I heard you were in ‘Spain.’” He said, making quotation marks in the air.

Mikel didn’t even seem ruffled about getting found out. He just shrugged one shoulder lazily. “Was that the excuse I gave Miki?”

“Yes.”

“And of course you wasted no time exposing me for a philanderer and a liar?”

“I usually don’t bother since you get found out sooner or later anyway. But I had this rare moment of kindness, and I decided to warn Miki about you. I told him it was unlikely you were in Spain to visit our parents, and he got mad at me. _At me!_ Would you believe it?”

Mikel fell back on the pillows, laughing heartily. Xabi let himself chuckle too. It was a rare, light moment between the two of them.

“Xabier,” Mikel sighed, soft and scratchy, “You never were good.”

Xabi met his brother’s gaze head on, arching one eyebrow. “If I’m bad, you’re terrible.”

“I don’t hide it.”

Xabi hummed. This conversation was turning out to be one of their longest in a while. “And where, may I ask, have your bad habits taken you this time around?”

Mikel stared at the ceiling as he ticked them off one by one. “I was really just gonna stay with my friend in Brighton for the launch of a new gay bar. But then we met a couple of his friends, and they were gonna fly to Amsterdam, and I thought, I’m already on the road, so why not? Then we took a train to Berlin…”

Xabi listened to his older brother recount his adventures, and he remembered just why he admired him so much growing up. He was everything Xabi never was: spontaneous, fun-loving, easy to get along with. Xabi, for someone who was in a risky business, was uptight and moody and, on good days, difficult. On bad days, he was impossible.

He wanted to be like Mikel. But he couldn’t, so he just despised him instead.

“I suppose in this trip, you never once answered Miki’s calls or texts?”

“I told him I was busy with all the family reunions,” Mikel said, feigning an exhausted sigh as he sat up.

Xabi shook his head. “I doubt Arteta believes what I told him, but I doubt he believes what you told him either.”

Mikel brought his face close to Xabi’s. His brown eyes were twinkling as he flicked Xabi’s chin with his finger. “Then he must hate us Alonso brothers, huh?”

*

Miki balanced a pot of tea and honey on the tray and prepared to enter Xabi’s office. They haven’t been talking a while now. He was still mad at Xabi for trying to drive a wedge between him and Mikel. Sure, Miki and Xabi used to fuck around – with each other and with half the people in this office – but couldn’t he see that Miki was serious about this relationship now?

It made him even madder that Xabi took offense in the accusation that he was lying. But Xabi didn’t really have a leg to stand on. Miki has seen him pull many, many ploys, some just for the sake of it. His latest victims were Stevie and Fernando. While that had been fun to watch, Miki realised it wasn’t as amusing when he was the pawn.

Miki knocked once and then pushed open the door. “Tea?” He asked curtly.

Xabi looked up and when he saw it was Miki, a small, twisted smile appeared on his face. Like a cat that has just spotted a mouse. It sent a shiver down Miki’s spine.

“My brother’s back.”

Miki froze for a minute. He had to literally will his body to move again. Robotically, he put one foot in front of the other until he was walking and then setting down the tray on Xabi’s side table, the tea set clattered noisily with his hands shaking.

“When did he arrive?”

“Last night,” Xabi answered, not even looking up from his computer.

Mikel hadn’t told Miki he was back. He’d been gone for longer than Miki expected, and it was always hard to reach him, but the assistant didn’t make a big deal out of it. He knew Mikel was visiting family, and he didn’t want to interrupt his private time.

But there was something unnerving about the nonchalant way Xabi was bringing up the news. He knew something.

Miki put one hand on his hip, bent his knee and tried to assume a casual pose. “So, did he go back to Spain after all?”

Xabi stopped typing to laugh. “What does it matter what I know? You’ve made it pretty clear you don’t trust me.”

Miki bristled but not because of the retort. Xabi was provoking him. He definitely knew something.

He excused himself and rushed back to his desk. He doesn’t know why the plan came so effortlessly to him. Maybe he’s been devising a strategy subconsciously all this time, ever since Xabi hinted that Mikel wasn’t going back home after all.

He found the calling card in his planner. With one last glance to check if Xabi could see him, he picked up the telephone to dial the number.

“Hola?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs Alonso,” he greeted, his Spanish still buttery smooth despite spending half his life in England. “I’m Miki Arteta, Xabi’s assistant. I’m booking a plane ticket for him since he’s thinking of flying back home for a short vacation. He just wants to know if there’s a particular date that you’d prefer for his visit?”

“Oh, gosh, that’s wonderful!” Xabi’s mother clapped, “Is everything alright? Xabi doesn’t usually visit unless there’s an occasion!” 

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine, ma’am. I think he just wants to take a break from work. It’s been pretty hectic the past couple of months,” Miki said, laying on the charm thickly.

It was pretty clear there were many loopholes in the plan. Mrs Alonso will eventually call her son to talk about his supposed trip back to Spain, and Miki would surely get found out. But honestly, he didn’t care about the consequences right now, and committing Xabi to an unwanted family vacation would be one small way for him to get back at his boss for many, many years of pain and suffering.

“Well, then we can’t wait for him to come around!” Xabi’s mother said. “We’ll be free all this month, but my husband and I are going to Tenerife after that. I can easily book Xabi his own hotel room if he wants to come with us.”

“Great,” Miki said. He didn’t know why he made notes for his planner for this imaginary trip, but he still penciled in the details. He cleared his throat, “Should I try and book a plane ticket for Mikel as well, ma’am?”

Mrs Alonso laughed. “If you can get those two together in the same airplane, it will be a miracle! They would probably kill each other before they reached Spain.”

Miki tapped his pencil against his desk anxiously. He needed more details than this. He forced a hearty laugh, asking, “So, is that a no? I shouldn’t book a ticket for Mikel?”

“You can try. I’d be extremely happy if I could see the both of them – I haven’t seen those two since Christmas! But if it’s just Xabi, that’s fine too.”

All the oxygen left Miki’s lungs and he felt like he was drowning. “Oh, that’s too bad,” he said flatly. “I’ll try to get the brothers to visit then, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you too. Tell Xabi to call me once his flight details are finalised!”

*

The door to his office opened again and the sound made Xabi grit his teeth – what did he have to do to get some peace and quiet around here? These Blacklisted projects were not gonna approve themselves. They were already behind on their schedule this quarter because he had to push back Stevie and Fernando’s shoot to make way for the Spaniard’s dalliance with Daniel.

Xabi looked up to see who his visitor was. It was Miki. Again. “Didn’t you just come in here to give me my tea? Shoo. I’m busy.”

But his assistant didn’t seem to be listening. His expression was glazed over as he sat down on one of the desk chairs gingerly.

Xabi knew this look. It was the look of a ticking time bomb. God, he didn’t have time for this drama. “What is it now?” He demanded.

“You were right.”

“What?”

“You were right. About Mikel,” Miki said. “He didn’t go back to Spain. He didn’t even tell me he was back. He lied to me all this time.”

Xabi’s jaw dropped. All thoughts of work flew from his mind. “Oh.” Suddenly, he didn’t know how to react. He usually delighted in being right. Now all he could mumble was a deflated “I told you so.”

Miki covered his face with his hands and groaned. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“My brother is an expert player. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

But the assistant just whimpered, wondering out loud why he wasn’t good enough and who else Mikel was looking for and where else he needed to go to find it. “I really thought I was on to something serious!”

It was disconcerting seeing Miki so unhappy. Xabi, though, didn’t do comfort. He never really knew how to process feelings like those, much less show them.

“Uh, tea? Maybe it will make you feel better.” Xabi clumsily pushed the tray towards his assistant. “It’s jasmine.”

Miki sniffled. “Actually, it’s chamomile.”

“Fuck, really? Have you been serving me chamomile all this time?”

“Our jasmine ran out the other day. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Xabi snorted, then he clapped his hand over his mouth because it was impolite in the face of Miki’s despair. But Miki chuckled too, and then soon they were both laughing.

When the laughter died down, Xabi leaned in to study the other Spaniard. “Are you really heartbroken?”

Maybe Miki had truly been in love with his brother. But Xabi never took him for a fragile boy. He was one of the most promiscuous and most manipulative people Xabi knew. He may have lost to Mikel now, but Miki could play every other trick in the book too.

In fact, Xabi was willing to bet that Miki could have done exactly the same thing to Mikel had they stayed in a relationship for longer. Mikel just screwed him over first.

Miki poured them some tea and sighed. “Well, I feel like utter shit. I really liked your brother and I thought we had a shot at a great relationship.” He warmed his hands against the side of the cup. “But I guess it’s better to find out the truth now while it’s still early. I dodged that bullet at least.”

They took their tea in silence for a while, and Miki could feel himself relaxing. There was a dull ache in his chest, and he figured it would stay there for some time but the immediate panic was over. He leaned back against the chair and stretched out his legs.

“I’m just curious,” Xabi said. “How did you manage to find out about Mikel?”

The corner of Miki’s mouth twitched up a little. “I called your mother.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I talked to her to try to fish for details.”

But Xabi was still one step behind. “You called my mother? Why do you even have her number?”

Miki glared at him. “Do I not run your life? How do you think your plane tickets get booked and your chauffeurs get notified what time you arrive at the airport?”

Xabi opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, but no words came out.

Miki explained, “I told your mother I was booking you a flight since you planned to visit, and I asked her if she wanted me to get a ticket for Mikel as well. She said she hasn’t seen the two of you since Christmas.”

“That’s actually really clever.”

“Thank you.”

And then something clicked, and Xabi almost spit out his tea. “YOU TOLD MY MOTHER I PLANNED TO VISIT?”

Miki shrank as he remembered they were also boss and assistant. “I told her it was just a plan! I’ll call her right after to say it won’t push through.”

“Great, now she’s gonna keep calling me, wailing on and on about how I never visit. It took me years – years, Arteta – to get her used to the fact that I will only visit Spain during Christmas and their anniversary.”

“I’m sorry!”

Xabi cradled his head in his hands, groaning. “Just get out! I need to get back to work!”

Miki leapt to his feet, hurriedly loading the tea pot and cups onto the tray. He was about to flee when he heard Xabi mutter something. It sounded a lot like, “This is the grief I get for trying to protect you.”

And that made the world stop for a second. Miki felt a warm glow engulf him. He has experienced many things in Blacklisted, so many physical pleasures, he wasn’t sure they were safe. But he’s never felt anything quite like this before – a sick, delicious churning in the stomach, a lightness in the head. It was the kind of sensation you felt in high school and then never again.

“You were trying to protect me?” Miki asked, turning around.

Xabi’s head snapped up. “What?”

“I thought the reason you were trying to break up Mikel and I was because you hated your brother.”

“Yes, and that is a very good reason.”

“But you were also looking out for me.”

Xabi stared at him. “In the sense that Mikel was a predator and you were a prey,” he pointed out like the answer was so clear. But Miki wasn’t buying this bluff.

“You were concerned about me.”

“You’re free to read this situation any way you want to. Go ahead, knock yourself out.”

Miki sauntered over, and he saw the doubt flicker on Xabi’s face. That emboldened him. He pulled Xabi and his chair away from the desk and smoothly sat down on his lap. “I have a question,” he said, eyes twinkling as he played with Xabi’s hair, “Were you jealous?”

“Why would I be?” Xabi answered coolly, but he wasn’t pushing Miki away.

“You like me,” Miki said, letting his fingers trail down the side of Xabi’s face and his lips drift over Xabi’s cheek. “You won’t ever say it, but I see it now.”

“Hm,” Xabi smiled, neither to confirm nor to deny.

Miki began to press butterfly kisses on Xabi’s neck, whispering, “Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Xabi’s chuckle made the muscles in his neck thrum. “I missed this,” he diverted easily, not falling for the trap. Miki had to laugh too. Xabi was never easily fooled.

After snatching himself a searing kiss from Xabi, Miki slipped off his lap. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll make this quick.” He dropped to his knees and smiled his wicked smile as he popped open the button of Xabi’s slacks. “You know what they say. One good turn deserves another.”

A small corner of Xabi’s mind was still working, thinking of all the documents he could be approving instead of receiving a blowjob. But that corner grew dimmer and dimmer as Miki moved closer, his breath dampening Xabi’s thighs, skin tingling in anticipation. Miki was a man of many talents. His mouth was one of them.

Xabi’s body almost arched off the chair as Miki’s mouth finally wrapped around his cock. “God, I missed you,” he gasped, letting himself say the words.

He had regretted trying to warn Miki of his brother before. It turned out, the gratification was delayed, but it was still worth it.

*

Fernando’s knee was jiggling incessantly, Stevie had to grab his leg and hold it in place. “Relax,” he said.

“How can I relax? I feel like I’m about to walk into a fire. I’m going to die,” Fernando hissed.

Stevie shifted in his seat so he could look at the Spaniard eye to eye. “You will not die. It will be painful, but you will not die.”

Fernando whimpered – that was not at all comforting.

The door to Xabi’s office opened and Miki came out. He looked out of sorts, but his expression morphed into a sneer when he saw the visitors. “Oh, it’s you two.”

Stevie waited for Fernando to speak up, but the younger boy had gotten even paler than usual. He explained for the both of them, “We were actually hoping to see Xabi. Is he free?”

Miki nodded towards the office. “He’s inside, but he’s very busy. He has a lot of paperwork.”

Stevie glanced at Fernando and nodded. “No day but today.”

Fernando was not happy but he still nodded, and they both head into the dragon’s lair.

When he thought Miki wasn’t looking, Stevie slipped his hand into Fernando’s and squeezed it in support. Miki raised an eyebrow. _Hoo boy_ , he whistled. _This is gonna be interesting._

*

Stevie and Fernando had just walked into the office and Xabi had already exploded. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, what is it now? Can I not be left in peace for more than five minutes? Do you all think this company runs itself?” The boss yelled, throwing down his pen and papers.

Fernando shrank – Xabi getting incensed was already fearsome. Xabi at the peak of his anger was something he did not wish to see. “Maybe we should come back another time?” He whispered, but Stevie squeezed his hand again and led the way forward.

“Sorry, Xabi, we’ll be quick,” Stevie said, not aggressive but firm. “Besides, it will probably mean less work for you too if we fix the issue now.”

Xabi buried his face in his hands and groaned. “Fine, fine. Go on, take a seat. Spit it out.”

Fernando could barely cough up the words. “I’ve decided that I don’t want to work with Daniel anymore.”

“No, shit, I didn’t figure that out when you waltzed in here hand in hand with Stevie.”

Fernando waited for Xabi to finish interjecting then soldiered on. “I know we’re supposed to have a project together, but I was wondering if you could cancel it instead.”

Xabi crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me get this straight. You make me rearrange my entire line-up of videos for this quarter so I can accommodate you and Daniel – because your fling with Daniel is not enough, you have to commit it to film – and I do it, out of the goodness of my heart, I grant you this idiotic favour… And now, you want me to reverse it?”

“I…”

“So, now, basically, I’m going to have an empty slot in the Blacklisted website, a slot that I reserved for your video with Daniel, and I don’t even have any upcoming shoots to make a new video that I can replace it with.”

“I didn’t know…”

“Of course you didn’t know. And I suppose now, you want to work with Stevie again so I have to revive your project together, which by the way, I had to shelve all of a sudden because you decided to run away with Daniel.” Xabi pointed a finger at Fernando, “You know what, if you were truly professional, you would just complete your work commitments regardless of your personal relationships.”

Now it was Stevie that spoke up. “Xabi, come on. It’s just a 10-minute video. We’ll make you one ourselves if you just need to replace it.”

Xabi’s head turned sharply so he could glare at the actor. “And who are you? His manager?” He almost added: _His boyfriend?_ But he felt a twinge in his chest and he stopped.

He knew that remark would have made the atmosphere heavy and laden with meaning. And Stevie was such a stupid, little boy, Xabi was sure if he taunted him enough about their relationship, he would have crumbled and abandoned Fernando _again_.

Xabi already felt bad for splitting them up the first time for his amusement. This time, he pulled back the punches.

“Whatever. Fine. The project with Daniel is cancelled.”

They were so lucky they caught him right after Miki gave him a glorious blowjob.

“W-what?”

“Really?”

Xabi rubbed his temples. “God, stop asking me already. I might change my mind.”

“I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you,” Fernando apologised profusely. “This will never happen again, I promise.”

Even Stevie couldn’t stop grinning. Xabi didn’t miss the way he patted Fernando’s knee. “Thanks, Xabi. We owe you.”

Xabi had to bite his cheek to stop himself from chiding, _‘We?’ You’re a ‘we’ now?_ Maybe Stevie wasn’t a stupid, little boy after all.

A look of doubt crossed Fernando’s face. “By the way, Xabi, will you be telling Daniel…?”

“Fucking hell. That too? Fine. Yes, I will break the bad news to Daniel.”

“It’s just that it took a while before he finally stopped trying to see me, and I don’t really want to give him an opportunity to talk again.”

Xabi waved away the explanation. “Blah, blah, blah, I get it. You made a big mess. I’ll fix it!”  
u  
Fernando clapped and jumped from his chair. “Thank you, thank you!" He ran over to the other side of the desk and stole a kiss from Xabi. It caught Xabi off guard, he couldn’t even kiss back.

“Okay, whoa, whoa.” It was Stevie, waving his arms. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Fernando pulled back, smiling coyly like he hadn’t just attacked his boss with his lips. It reminded Xabi why Blacklisted’s sales spiked 30% when their videos featured the young boy.

Xabi, grudgingly, gave him a pat on the cheek. “You should be thankful you’re so good at your job. But from now on, no more favours.”

*

“Was that kiss really necessary?”

“Hm?” Fernando asked, distracted as he rummaged through the Burger King paper bag for their take-away. “Fries or onion rings?”

“Surprise me.”

“Open up.”

Stevie dutifully opened his mouth so Fernando could feed him while he was driving. It was a fry, and it burned against his tongue. “Ah, hot,” he complained, trying to breathe on the fry while speaking.

“Sorry,” Fernando said, passing him a bottle of Coke. “And I didn’t really mean to kiss Xabi. I was just so fucking relieved.”

Stevie frowned. “I think a thank you would have been enough.”

He heard Fernando chuckle in the seat beside him. “Weren’t you happy that Xabi agreed?”

“Of course I was happy! But I didn’t have to kiss our boss, did I?”

“Okay, okay, point taken!” Fernando said. He fed Stevie a conciliatory onion ring.

They’ve reached that point in the relationship where they tried to finish any arguments as soon as possible. If Fernando was feeling petty enough, there were a lot he could say to rile Stevie up. (Why was Stevie jealous? What was wrong in kissing Xabi, hasn’t Stevie done that enough himself?)

If they wanted to be together, what good was it trying to pick a fight? What, for the principle of it?

“Babe, where are you passing? Can you just drop me off at the 7th Street bus station?” Fernando asked, gathering his things.

Stevie pulled to a stop at an intersection. “Oh, you’re heading to your flat?”

“Yeah, Sergio has exams today so I should get some peace and quiet.”

“You can still stay over at mine, you know.”

Fernando had been staying over once or twice a week, usually on days when he knew Sergio would be home for long periods of time. His roommate was alternating between seducing him and bullying him.

While he enjoyed living with Stevie, he didn’t want to overstay either. “Maybe tomorrow or the next, I’ll come over if that’s alright.”

“Of course it is. And can you please move out already? I don’t know how you still manage to tolerate Sergio,” Stevie said. He had been insisting on visiting Fernando at his place just to intimidate Sergio, maybe mark his territory, but the younger boy just wanted to let it be.

“I’m saving up for my own place,” Fernando promised. “Rent in this goddamn city is too expensive – yes, even for a porn star.”

Stevie sighed as he took a turn to 7th Street. “Alright then, I’ll see you soon.” He didn’t move the car until he saw the younger boy get on his bus safely.

The entire day suddenly lay ahead of him, empty. He had plans, of course. He was planning to go to the gym, do the groceries, maybe meet his brother for dinner. But at the back of his mind, he was also making back-up plans if ever Fernando decided to stay over. They could finish the bottle of wine they splurged on last week, watch the new episodes of Suits he downloaded, maybe make out for a while on his couch. He had gained a new appreciation for his couch ever since he first spread out Fernando on it a few days ago.

So, he pushed through with his original schedule. He went to the gym but got bored after three sets. He did the groceries but ended up overspending since he felt he should buy for two people. And when he took his brother to the pub, he was down and out after a pint. Something just felt amiss. By 10 PM, he was home and sprawled out on his couch, the throw pillow hugged close to his chest.

“Home,” he texted to Fernando. He did not want to know when exactly he became that type of person who reported his whereabouts.

“Steven Gerrard, home before midnight!” Fernando replied. After a few more seconds, a follow-up: “But, seriously, are you alright?”

“Yeah, just feeling a bit off.”

There was a lull, and Stevie’s stomach churned. His phone said the message had been delivered and read. (When exactly did he become that type of person that agonised over text messages?) He imagined Fernando answering with a curt “okay,” which was the polite way of saying “I don’t care,” which was the short way of saying “I am not responsible for your happiness.”

After a few more seconds, his phone finally lit up. Stevie tried to restore some of his dignity by pretending to be bored as he opened the message, but there was no fooling anyone.

“Do you want me to come over?”

More saving face: “It’s late though. I’m alright. I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.”

This time, Fernando didn’t miss a beat. “No, I’m coming over. Gago arrived and I don’t want to hear them having sloppy sex. Sergio’s been extra loud lately. I think he’s trying to spite me.”

Stevie knew what Fernando was doing. He was making it seem like he was the one who needed to come over, just so Stevie wouldn’t feel bad about it. It was embarrassing, but Stevie appreciated it anyway.

“Ok. I’ll wait up.” He added, “Thanks.”

*

Stevie could wake up to this every day. Fernando had stolen more than half his share of the blanket again, pushed Stevie down the side of the bed, and even taken the fattest, fluffiest pillow for himself. But Stevie could forgive the boy – the boy of the smooth back and the supple skin and the endless freckles.

He sidled up to Fernando, traced the curve of his neck with his nose and inhaled his scent right behind his ear. He smelled of Stevie’s cologne, and it drove the Scouser wild. It was like he was marked. He was his, and he was here.

Before Stevie realised it, he had already wrapped one arm around Fernando’s waist and pressed his body up to his.

Fernando stirred, mumbling Stevie’s name and a sleepy “what time is it.”

“Time to get up.”

Fernando opened one eye and scrutinised Stevie. His chuckle was dry as he turned to his side and closed his eyes again. “Well, you’re up for it, aren’t you.”

Stevie laughed, tightening his grip around Fernando. “It’s the morning. Of course I’m up for it.” He pressed his hips against Fernando’s backside, and even through his boxers, it was clear what he meant.

Fernando felt Stevie hook his fingers on the waistband of his shorts, tentatively pulling them down. He didn’t stop him. When he was naked, he rolled on his stomach wordlessly to give the other boy better access.

Stevie shimmied out of his underwear, groaning once the cool air hit his sensitive cock. He reached for the lube by the dresser and warmed it up in his hands. He needed only a few tugs to bring himself at full mast. It had been a long time since he last had sex – even longer since he last had sex with Fernando.

The Spaniard has been sleeping over more often lately, and they have made out some nights, even groped each other and blown each other during others. But there seemed to have been an unspoken agreement to wait it out before they finally slept with each other again. In fact, the last time he’s fucked Fernando was before Daniel.

There was a painful squeeze at the base of Stevie’s stomach, a deep, deep hunger he couldn’t wait to feed. “Are you sure about this?” He asked while he still could.

Fernando nodded. “I’m ready.”

In a way, this was like an absolution for the two of them.

Stevie made quick work of preparing Fernando – it was clear they were both impatient, but it had been too long since their last time to not take care. When he lined himself up behind the blonde, he took a second to savour the moment. Then he slid in slowly. His vision blurred out into white in time with the heat engulfing his cock.

Fernando groaned into the pillow, throaty and uncontrolled. The sound made the hairs on the back of Stevie’s neck stand on end. He reached up and entwined his hands with Fernando’s, which were clutching the sheets desperately. He started to move his hips, pulling all the way out sharply then pushing back in inch by inch.

Fernando tried to buck against him, but with Stevie’s body on top of him, he was pressed flat on the bed and trapped. The pace his lover was using was torture. Pure torture. He withdrew so quickly, one second Fernando was stretched and full; the other, he was empty. And when Stevie entered him again, he made sure it was so slow, Fernando felt the thickness stretching him wide open.

“Fuck!” Fernando cried out against the pillows, and Stevie’s hands clasped at his hands even more tightly. Stevie drove into him, hitting Fernando’s weak spot hard, it sent shivers through his entire body. It took just one more thrust like that, and they both came.

Fernando tried to roll on his back and catch his breath, but Stevie kept him pinned down. “Babe...?” He murmured, confused.

Stevie responded by sliding his cock between Fernando’s butt cheeks. Stevie was still hard, and Fernando was still slick and wet.

Stevie penetrated him again, and it took away whatever air was left in Fernando’s lungs. Fernando was a mess, barely awake from his sleep and from his first orgasm, and now he was being fucked a second time. He had no energy left to think, only to feel – Stevie’s hot breath blowing against his neck, his teeth grazing against his shoulder, his nipples hard against his back.

He tried to spread his legs and arch his back to take more of Stevie, but he hardly needed to. Stevie was in full control, and him in full submission. It made him so, so aroused, he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He couldn’t tell if he was close to coming or he was just coming endlessly. The sheets were so wet against his cock and he kept rutting against the mattress.

Stevie let out a loud yell. He pulled Fernando’s cheeks apart and thrust in deep, trying to get his entire erection inside Fernando as he exploded. Fernando felt the heat spreading in him. He could imagine Stevie filling him with ropes and ropes of come.

Stevie finally collapsed in bed beside him, but he didn’t pull out and he didn’t let go of Fernando. He took the younger boy by the chin and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Good morning,” Stevie said as they began to make out lazily.

“It’s only 9 AM and we’ve already accomplished so much,” Fernando said, grinning against Stevie’s lips.

“That was a great performance, if I do say so myself.”

“Got it all in one take too.”

“Carra would be proud.”

Fernando laughed. He played with Stevie’s hair. It was ungelled and drooped over his forehead. “We should have recorded that. Xabi did say he needed a 10-minute video to replace the one we cancelled with Daniel.”

Stevie laughed too. “God, that’s a brilliant idea. Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

“What, you want to do that again? I’m exhausted.”

“Not now, I just meant – “ Stevie pointed out, but he stopped. His jaw dropped and his eyes twinkled. “Fuck. I have an even better idea.”

*

_Do you have a video camera with a tripod?  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:19 PM_

_Of course. Am I not a cameraman?  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:19 PM_

_Great. Can I borrow it? It’s for a Blacklisted project.  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:20 PM_

_What kind of project? I didn’t receive a briefer from Carra.  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:23 PM_

_A… special project?  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:29 PM_

_Nice try. No. I’m not lending you office equipment for your hanky panky. Use your phone camera.  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:29 PM_

_Okay, it’s a home project. But we want to pitch it to Xabi for the website. I swear.  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:30 PM_

_Do you not want to be on Xabi’s good side?  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:30 PM_

_I’m screencapping this conversation right now, so if you turn out to be lying, I’m showing this to Xabi so he can skin you alive and not me.  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:33 PM_

_Go ahead. Is that a yes?  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:34 PM_

_Do I get an advance copy of the video?  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:34 PM_

_Hahahaha. Sure.  
Sender: Steven Gerrard, 2:35 PM_

_You can pick up the camera from me tomorrow.  
Sender: Pepe Reina, 2:36 PM_

*

“Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” Fernando eyed the bed unsurely. It sounded like such a good idea when they were talking about it yesterday.

“I could,” Stevie said, fiddling with one of the legs of the tripod. “But it would ruin the whole kink.”

Fernando sighed. “I know. I just…”

He was getting cold feet. Almost a year of being a porn star, having sex in front of dozens of people, shooting for hours at different positions and angles, being broadcast for thousands, maybe tens of thousands of subscribers… and he was sick with stage fright over Stevie and one camera.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Stevie said. He massaged the younger boy’s shoulders. He was cold to the touch. “Do you need a minute? We don’t have to do this right now.”

Fernando exhaled slowly, imagining his thoughts leaving him at the same time as his breath. “I’m okay.” He smiled, embarrassed, “By any chance, though, do you still have some of that wine we bought?”

They ended up polishing off three glasses of wine each. Stevie didn’t need the liquid courage, but he wanted to keep up with Fernando who was drinking like he was parched. It wasn’t long before they started making out against the kitchen counter. 

At first it was just Fernando, sneaking kisses along Stevie’s shoulder as he poured them some wine. Then it was Stevie, sliding his fingers underneath Fernando’s t-shirt as he downed his drink. After that, Fernando practically jumped on Stevie, his knees banging on the cupboard as they tried to hold their balance.

When they were sufficiently buzzed, they headed back into the bedroom – Fernando to the bed, Stevie to the desk chair behind the camera.

“Ready when you are,” Stevie said, training the lens on the Spaniard. Fernando gave a nod, and the red light started blinking.

The first few seconds of the video, Fernando just lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, conflicted. His hand would drift to his bare hip, stroke his skin and then pull back before it moved any lower. It grounded the video, Stevie thought, gave it a sense of reality. He remembered Carra’s words: what separated great porn from good ones was when you could imagine it actually happening, somewhere, somehow, at that very moment.

If Fernando was nervous, he tried not to show it. It was one thing to star in a movie with Stevie. It was another to have Stevie behind the camera, directing him. It upped the stakes instantly. Fernando didn’t want to disappoint him. More than his lover, Stevie was his colleague – his partner and his senior in the company.

Fernando has acted long enough to be able to shift into first gear almost without thinking. He lubed up his hands and started to stroke himself easily – not to get himself off, but to get himself started.

It was hard to get in the mood at first, acting by himself. But he kept his eyes trained on Stevie, who was not bothering to hide that he was watching this for less than professional purposes. When his hand picked up pace, sliding up and down his dick, Stevie smiled slyly and nodded in approval. He was enjoying this, and that spurred Fernando on.

He added more lube to his hands and started moving lower, fondling with his sac and then his pucker. It’s tricky, having fun with yourself. You know what you plan to do, and that takes away the excitement, the unpredictability. But by god, nobody can map out your body better than yourself. Fernando couldn’t stop his breath from hitching as he teased his entrance, oh so delicately with the tip of his finger, slicking it with lube.

When he pushed his finger inside him, his entire body arched to suck it in deeper. It brought him back to the first time he took something up the ass: his interview with Xabi as he applied for a job in Blacklisted. He remembered that it hurt. The pain burned. But he also remembered that he couldn’t stop moving against Xabi’s hand, trying to get more friction.

He pictured Xabi watching this video tomorrow. Fernando violating himself. He would squirm in his seat and loosen his tie, maybe wipe off the sweat from that ridiculously chiseled face of his. Then he would probably get Mikel to finish him off after watching.

Stevie watched Fernando from the camera’s LCD screen. His eyes were squeezed shut – he wondered who he was thinking about. Whoever it was, it was doing its job, since Fernando’s hands were moving in a frenzy. The boy was writhing in bed, trying to get his finger deeper into him. But they both knew that wouldn’t be enough to push him off the edge. He needed something more, something bigger.

Fernando must have realised the same thing at the same time. He sat up, offered a shaky smile to Stevie or the camera and crawled to the dresser. It was nice of him to display his lovely bubble butt for the audience, and Stevie made sure to zoom in.

When Fernando reentered the frame, he had a dildo in his hands. Stevie’s cock twitched in his shorts at the sight. He’d been waiting all day for this. He may have suggested the kink to Fernando partly for selfish reasons, but in his defence, he knew Xabi would love it too.

Fernando began to push the toy into him he struggled. A finger was one thing, a dildo was another. It stretched him painfully as he tried to insert it. But there was also a burning in his gut, the flames were licking at his insides. He yearned for something inside him. 

With a groan, he finally pushed the tip in. He dropped his head back and exhaled, waiting for his body to relax around the dildo. He could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead. Then, he pushed in another inch and then another and then another. His breath came in short bursts.

Stevie pressed the heel of his hand against his crotch. His shorts were tenting, and his fingers were itching to take out his cock, just stroke it a bit to relieve himself. But he knew it would distract Fernando, and they needed to finish this clip. Just a few more minutes, he told himself.

Fernando was already getting the hang of it, plunging the dildo in and out of him now, his body bucking to meet it. Stevie’s mouth watered, and he zoomed in again.

He intentionally bought the most unrealistic-looking dildo. He wanted it to look like a toy – rubber and cylindrical and bright red like jello. None of those flesh-colored, ridged, phallic dildos. Where was the fun in having Fernando handle yet another cock?

Besides, this little beauty had another important feature.

Fernando paused for a second. There was something different, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. He felt around the bed, turned his face to the air, tried to figure out what changed. And then he felt it in his hands. A soft thrumming coming from the dildo.

His head snapped up as he glared at Stevie, but Stevie just stared back blankly. “What’s wrong?” He mouthed. Fernando shook his head. Maybe he was just imagining things. His hands were probably shaking or his body probably wasn’t used to the material of the dildo. He went back to work, fucking himself with the toy.

He had almost forgotten about it when the thrumming returned later, stronger this time. He was sliding the toy in him when it jumped to life. Fernando let out a surprised squeak and almost let go of the handle. “Stevie!” He yelled – he intended it to be a yell, at least, but the dildo kept vibrating in him, his words came out in a desperate groan.

Stevie could feel his mouth literally hanging open. He watched Fernando who, for a while, just lay there and let the vibrations take over him, his legs spread apart and his hips gyrating against the toy.

It wasn’t long, though, before Fernando began to push the dildo deeper. He tried it at different angles, looking for the sweet spot. And then – Fernando cried out, his body coiled like a tight spring. He dug the toy in him hard. He wasn’t moving it now, just pressing it in at an angle.

Stevie took the remote control in his hands and set the vibrations to their highest level. He could hear the furious buzz from the dildo, and he imagined that massaging at the sensitive bunch of nerves inside the younger boy. Fernando peaked almost instantly, his come erupting with barely a flick of his hand on his cock.

Stevie was panting just as hard as Fernando as he watched the ropes of come smear on Fernando’s thighs, and it wouldn’t stop. He just kept coming. He was salivating – he wanted to lick those last few drops from the head of his lover’s dick.

Stevie checked the recording. They had more than enough for the 10-minute video clip. “Ah, fuck this,” he muttered, leaping from his seat, already unbuttoning his shorts as he strode toward the bed. He’d been patient enough.

Fernando struggled to open his eyes as he felt the bed sink around him. Stevie leaned over him. And it didn’t matter if he was dazed or tired, he knew this position so well, his legs naturally wrapped around Stevie’s waist to keep him close.

“Hi,” Stevie smiled.

“You bastard,” Fernando answered. Stevie didn’t tell him there was a vibrator inside that dildo. Worse, that it was remote-controlled!

“I’m sorry, babe,” Stevie said, kissing him in apology.

Fernando hissed as Stevie wrapped his hand around his sensitive cock, still stiff as fuck despite his orgasm. The dildo was pulled out and thrown aside. Fernando whined at the loss. It felt like his body was still shaking even without the toy inside him.

He didn’t have enough time to miss it, though, since Stevie sliced into him in one smooth stroke. “Fuck!” Fernando shouted, thrashing.

The sensation was familiar but new. No more rubber, just slick and heated skin. And there were no more measured strokes that he controlled, only a relentless pace dictated by Stevie. Why fuck yourself when you could get fucked by him?

Stevie pounded into him, never letting him rest, never letting him guess what he would do next. Fernando cupped Stevie’s face in his hands and whispered against his lips, “God, you feel so good.”

Stevie didn’t know why that brief moment of intimacy struck him, but he lost any control after that. He fucked Fernando with wild abandon, and they fell over the edge together.

Later, when Stevie caught his breath, he rolled over to the side to check up on the Spaniard. His eyes were closed and his body was boneless.

“Still alive?” He asked, walking his fingers up Fernando’s arm.

“No.” Fernando didn’t even have the strength to sweep his hair from his face. “Xabi better find the meaning of life in that video.”

Stevie laughed and kissed his shoulder. “Oh, he would. That was amazing. I think you’re in the clear with Xabi for years to come.”

Fernando finally smiled. “Thanks for helping me out.”

“Oh, gladly. We can film as many versions as you like.”

“Did you pause the camera before you joined in?”

Stevie turned to the camera, still set on the tripod. The red light was still blinking. “Oh. That.”

“Stevie!”

“We can edit it out later.”

*

“Arteta,” Xabi called out as he arrived in his office.

“Yes, boss?”

“What is this?” Xabi held up a thick brown envelope, sealed with masking tape.

“Oh, Stevie dropped by last night. He said it was for you.”

Xabi ripped open the package and a note fell out. “For your viewing pleasure,” it read. He took the CD and loaded it into his computer.

When the video began, Xabi’s jaw dropped. He paused it before it played any further. “Arteta!” He called out again, more urgently this time.

Miki ran up to the door once more, confused. “What’s wrong?”

“I think you should watch this with me. Lock the door.”

*

_Sender: carra@blacklisted.xxx  
Recipient: sami@blacklisted.xxx_

_Hi, Sami,  
This is the edited version of the Fernando clip. Xabi says you can put it at the top of the free videos section._

_Carra_

_PS Maybe you should make sure our bandwidth is ready since the website might go into a meltdown._

*

_Sender: sami@blacklisted.xxx  
Recipient: All_

_GUYS CHECK THIS OUT_

*

“You will never, ever guess what I just discovered,” Sergio said excitedly as he brought out two bottles of beer from the ref.

“I thought we were watching a movie tonight,” Gago said, yawning.

“Babe, this is going to be much better than a movie.” Sergio returned to the couch and handed his boyfriend the beer. He loaded a website on his laptop, “See, Blacklisted just uploaded this video...”

“Wait a second. Blacklisted? That porn site?” Gago demanded. “How do you even manage to pay for premium porn and yet still live in a dump like this?”

Sergio rolled his eyes. “I don’t pay for it. Sometimes, they have torrents but they’re hard to come by. Anyway, they uploaded a free video today and the comments are just going through the roof. I couldn’t sit still in my English class this morning because I was dying to download it.”

“You were checking porn during English class.”

Sergio was nonplussed. “It was a slow day.”

Gago nodded at the door of Fernando’s room. “Is your little loser of a roommate here? I don’t like being disturbed when I’m watching porn.”

Sergio’s cheeks heated up. He never told Gago about his steamy encounter with Fernando. It’s not like there was a proper explanation for that anyway. “He hasn’t been home since Thursday, don’t worry.”

“Fernando? Out? Isn’t this the same person who held 24-hour Playstation marathons locked down in his bedroom?”

“Yeah,” Sergio forced a snicker. Fernando didn’t tell him where he headed when he disappeared for days. But sometimes, Stevie arrived at the apartment to pick up the blonde. Sergio and Stevie didn’t acknowledge each other.

“Anyway, enough of that,” he announced, more to himself. “Let’s get this party started.”

Gago eased back on the couch and wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s leg, massaging his thigh. “Alright then. Impress me.”

The video began, the title screen fading to black. Then, it cut to a typical opening scene: a bed and a boy. And then – 

“Holy fuck.”

“Is that...?”


	15. Power

“800,000 views? Really? How are there 800,000 views for this thing?” Daniel said, pacing the boardroom back and forth.

Xabi tapped his pen on his pad impatiently. When Daniel called asking for a meeting, he expected it was because of an urgent matter – a story pitch or a work issue, not a bitter rant.

“Well, I don’t know how many original views there were. I imagine there were a lot of replays,” he said, although Daniel’s question was probably hypothetical.

Dan scoffed. “It’s basically one guy and a dildo. It’s probably the most basic, most unimaginative plotline for a porn flick yet. People actually watch this shit?”

Xabi bristled. He wasn’t partial to Fernando, but it was his executive decision to post and promote the video. He didn’t appreciate Daniel questioning his call. “Yeah, apparently, they do. Didn’t you?” He shot back.

Dan brushed it off. “I had to check out the competition.”

“And how many times did you watch it?”

“It was just twice.” Well, five times, actually. And the others didn’t count as replays since he only kept repeating a particular scene. He especially liked the part where Fernando first discovered it was a vibrating dildo. That was a good scene. He was sure there were already screencaps of that floating around the Internet as they spoke.

Xabi nodded. “That settles it then, right? If you hated the video and still watched it twice” – he made quotation marks in the air – “just imagine how many times other people watched it if they loved it.”

Dan began to protest but Xabi held up his hand then read statistics off his pad. “Since the video was posted, we actually saw a 60% increase in traffic and, more importantly, a 15% increase in subscriptions.”

He added, snickering, “It’s about time, if you ask me. Even if you got the cheapest package at $20, that’s just how many Big Macs. For the same price, you get a better kind of meat.”

Xabi uncrossed his legs and stood up. “If there’s nothing else, I still have a lot of work to do.”

But Dan intercepted him before the door. “Xabi, all I’m saying is you could have a sexier, more exciting video from me and Fernando. We can beat those numbers.”

“And how do you plan to make that sexier and more exciting video of you and Fernando, hm?”

Dan paused, a blush rising in his cheeks. “Oh, that.” He scratched his head and smiled impishly, “I was kind of hoping you could talk to Fernando for me...”

Xabi laughed in disbelief. He sidestepped Dan and continued to walk. “At most, I’ll tell Fernando you want to work with him, but I won’t negotiate for you. I’m not your manager.”

He paused, “Come to think of it, I’m not your messenger either. You talk to him.”

“Xabi!” Dan whined, jogging after his boss who was high-tailing it back to his office. “So that’s it? I won’t get any more projects?”

Xabi sighed. “Of course you will. I quite like you as an actor, Agger, which is why I still haven’t fired you despite all your idiotic schemes. But I can’t wave my magic wand and give you a project with Fernando if he doesn’t work with you.”

“You have a magic wand?”

“Yeah, it’s what I use to fuck Arteta.”

They took a break from the argument to chortle in agreement.

“Anyway, from now on, you take whatever project I give you.”

Dan’s shoulders slumped and he stomped to enunciate every word. “I don’t want to bottom!”

“Too bad because your only partner is Martin Skrtel, and he’s definitely not going to bottom either. You just have to suck it up – literally.”

When they turned a corner though, Xabi stopped so suddenly, the Dane almost crashed into him. Daniel followed his gaze – there were five strapping young men lined up outside the door to Xabi’s office. Miki was talking to them one by one, noting down their names and numbers on the application forms.

“Oh, hey. It’s open season,” Xabi said with a grin reminiscent of a cat that got the cream. 

Dan examined their faces one by one. “Hypothetically speaking, if there’s a bottom among them, can I have him?”

“Let’s see.”

Miki saw the two men approaching and whistled at the applicants, nodding to the direction of Xabi and Dan. “Line up. The one in the suit, that’s Xabi Alonso. You impress him or you’re out.”

The five applicants suddenly stood at attention like cadets and formed a straight line. A delicious tingle of power ran down Dan’s spine. So this is what it felt like to be Xabi. He shadowed the Basque as he walked slowly up and down the line, assessing the applicants closely.

The first was definitely out, Dan thought. He was hot, if the trucker look was your thing. His beard was grizzly and there were already deep wrinkles around his eyes. His body was ripped and it showed clearly even under his denim jacket, but Xabi never accepted people just for their physique. “They should never just covet the sex, they should covet you,” he always told the actors.

He peeked over Xabi’s shoulder and saw him make an X mark right beside the name Raul Meireles.

The second applicant – the form said “Jose Enrique” – was handsome, clearly Spanish but also clearly a top. “We don’t need any more tops, really,” Xabi said, tsking. “Unless you are ridiculously talented, I think we’ll pass.”

Miki’s hand shot up. “I volunteer to test his talents.”

Jose Enrique immediately glanced at the assistant and he didn’t seem to be against the idea at all. Xabi snickered and pointed them towards his office where the infamous black leather couch was. “Be my guest.”

Miki led Jose into the office, and Xabi and Dan moved to the next.

“Now this one’s a bottom,” Dan said, circling the boy like a vulture. Pretty face, pretty hair, pretty shoes. “Come to papa.”

Xabi scrutinised the boy, Jordan Henderson, from head to toe. “You can head inside so you can audition too,” he said.

Jordan’s pink, puckered lips spread into a sultry smile. “Sure, boss.”

Dan began to follow Jordan into the office. “I’ll try him.”

“Uh-uh,” Xabi said, swatting Dan’s hand away before he could reach out to the boy. “Not for you.”

“I can show you. I can top him!”

But Xabi shook his head firmly. “You’ll break him.”

And Xabi was being objective. Jordan looked young, fresh, and it wouldn’t look good, him with Daniel. The contrast was too stark. He already had a top in mind for him too, a new one he recruited just last week, Stewart Downing.

Dan sulked but they moved on to the next one. The fourth candidate was forgettable – large forehead, larger nose, beady eyes and slight build. Xabi gave him one look and crossed him out of the list immediately. Dan didn’t even get to read his name.

But the fifth, the fifth made Dan stop. His brow was deeply furrowed and his jaw was clenched tightly. He reminded Dan of a less harsh Martin Skrtel except his face was rounded at the cheeks and his posture was unsure – a sign of youth.

“What’s your name?” Xabi asked.

“Martin Kelly.”

Dan’s interrupted. “Are you even legal yet?”

“Just about.”

Dan liked the sneer on Martin’s face when he answered that. Xabi and Dan exchanged glances.

“You know this is mine, Xabs.”

“Don’t call me Xabs, we are not friends.”

“Please, Xabier,” Dan purred into the Basque’s ear, rolling his Rs for effect. He felt Xabi shudder.

“Alright,” the boss folded the application forms in his hands. “Kelly, to the office too. Everyone else, thank you for your time.”

If the other boys complained, Dan didn’t even hear them. The blood was already pumping in his ears as he followed Xabi inside.

They found Jose sat on a chair, already buck naked and jacking off for Miki, who watched him avidly.

“I see you haven’t gotten started yet,” Dan commented like they had just walked into a meeting.

“You’re lucky, Miki’s a sweet ride,” Xabi added. Jose tugged at his angry cock even faster.

“Aw, you’re a darling,” Miki said, giving Xabi a kiss as he passed. “I saved the casting couch for you since I know you like doing your ‘auditions’ there.”

The assistant added to Dan, “Sorry, you’ll have to find another surface to work on.”

Dan turned to Kelly. “Your choice – floor, wall or coffee table.” Martin chose the coffee table, while Jordan got comfortable on the leather couch.

Xabi clapped his hands to get their attention. Dan passed him the camera so he could take the test shots for Carra. “Alright, everyone, let’s get down to business. Strip, get hard and look pretty for the pictures.”

*

Fernando timed his bus perfectly so he would arrive at his flat in the wee hours of the morning. He’d stayed at Stevie’s all week, allowing him to avoid Sergio, but he had a paper due next week and he needed to get his school books from his room.

He slid in the key as gently as he could into the rattly doorknob. If he twisted it just right, it wouldn’t make much of a sound. He held his breath, and there was just a slight click. The door, he couldn’t do anything about. It really creaked as loudly as it did as it swung on its rusty hinges.

The flat was dark, just as he expected. It was 1 AM, and Sergio had a class early that day. He should be in bed by now.

As Fernando felt around for the light switch, the lights suddenly flickered on from the other end of the room. Fernando jumped out of his skin, yelping, “Holy shit!”

It wasn’t just Sergio coming out of his bedroom. It was Gago too. Great. The gruesome twosome.

“Hey, guys. You two are up pretty late,” Fernando said, his heart still slamming against his ribcage.

“Oh, we were waiting up for you,” Gago smiled sweetly.

“Yeah, you’ve been gone for so long. We haven’t seen you since last week!” Sergio added.

Fernando didn’t know why, but he instinctively clutched his bag to his body to act as a barrier between him and anything that could come at him. He pressed himself against the wall and subtly slid closer and closer to his room.

“I doubted you two would miss me, so I just stayed over at my friend’s place for a while.”

“Stevie’s?”

Fernando almost dropped his bag. He laughed weakly. “Yeah.”

Just one more metre and he was in his room already. He could hear Sergio and Gago’s voices getting louder as they approached him.

“A sleepover with Stevie, huh?”

“Is that where you shot that video of him fucking you?”

Fernando felt his knees almost give way, and he had to grab onto the doorknob for support. “I don’t... What are you...?”

“Wait, I forget. Did Stevie fuck you before or after you fucked yourself with a dildo?”

“And it was such a cute dildo too. Cherry red! I didn’t know you liked toys.”

With no ready alibi, Fernando was preparing to leap into his room and lock the door behind him. It felt like grade school when bullies chased you, their taunts ringing in your ears.

Then Sergio said, “Come on now, Fernando. You can’t run from the truth forever.”

And Fernando stilled because his roommate was right, wasn’t he? He could deny it now, say it was just a ridiculous coincidence that he looked eerily like the boy in the video. But what if Sergio decided to look for other Blacklisted videos? What if he went through Fernando’s things or monitored his movements? What lie would Fernando have to come up with then?

Besides, being ashamed of his job only yielded the high ground to Sergio and Gago. They already enjoyed the advantage of surprise.

Fernando pushed back from the wall and stood up straight. “Well, you two have got me figured out then,” he said. “I have to say, I’m surprised it took this long.”

His words were wobbly at first, but he grew in confidence the more he spoke. Who ever said there was no acting required in porn?

“So, that is you in the video? You admit it?” The bullying tone in Sergio’s voice was gone now. It was replaced with pure curiosity. His eyes were round and his jaw hung low.

Fernando laughed. “Why, you’re not sure? Do you need a closer look?” He smoothly shrugged off his jacket.

Gago was not so easily amused. “Aren’t you the least bit ashamed of what you’re doing? What, making sex tapes and hawking them to porn sites?”

“Aren’t you the least bit ashamed that you watched it?”

“It was Sergio’s idea.”

“Oh. Even better,” Fernando said, winking at Sergio.

Gago couldn’t believe who this... this _monster_ was in front of him. “I liked you better when you had no self-esteem,” he huffed. “Let’s go to bed, babe.”

“But...” Sergio protested, glancing at Fernando with this newfound interest. If Fernando was still head over heels in love with Sergio, his heart would have skipped a beat. But that felt so long ago.

“Let’s go now!” Gago ordered. He took Sergio by the arm and dragged him back to the bedroom, the door slamming loudly after them.

Fernando stood rooted on the spot, staring at where his two tormentors were just a few seconds ago. He nodded slowly then puffed his chest out in pride. “Ah, that went well.”

*

Stevie couldn’t get to Fernando’s flat fast enough. He had awoken to a text message from Fernando that simply read, “Sergio and Gago found out,” and he immediately tumbled out of bed to get to his lover.

Stevie was one of the few lucky ones who have never had to hide his job. His brother was as straight as a rod and would never find himself anywhere near Blacklisted. All his friends were gay and worshipped the fact that he was a famous porn star, and Stevie plied them with enough drinks and meals to keep them quiet around his family and acquaintances.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to lead a double life and then to have your secret exposed against your will. By Sergio and Gago, no less, who were not exactly the kindest and most magnanimous people on this side of the planet.

He didn’t even know if there was any sense in visiting Fernando. What was he going to do? Confront Sergio and Gago face to face? Make up a long-winded story about their fictional job in Burger King? Challenge them to a fight? (He could take both of them; they looked like pussies.)

He was still clueless by the time he was at their doorstep. Gago came to the door and laughed out loud when he saw who it was.

“God, I can’t even look you in the eye anymore after seeing your video,” he said by way of greeting.

Stevie’s cheeks flushed. He wasn’t embarrassed by his job but, god, Gago had a way of getting to you, didn’t he?

“Did you like it?” He levelled.

“You have a massive cock.”

“Thank you.”

Gago opened the door wider and beckoned Stevie to enter. “Your princess is still in the shower,” he said.

Another spark of irritation. Stevie used to call Fernando “princess” when they first met. It was so foreign to hear Gago use the same term.

Sergio was by the kitchen counter, stirring a cup of coffee. “Hey,Stevie! Just the person I wanted to see. Tell me more about your sex tape.” He kicked a stool towards the visitor and beckoned him to sit down.

The Scouser glanced at the seat fleetingly and ignored Sergio’s request. He’d only been there for a few minutes and he was dying to get out already. He had to convince Fernando to leave this place.

“O-okay,” Sergio said at the snub. “You’re lucky you have a large dick because your personality is a bit shit.”

Stevie had to snort. “Coming from you, Sergio, I’d take that as a compliment.”

Gago stepped in before the two boys could continue arguing. “Anyway,” he interrupted loudly. “Stevie, what about those sex tapes, huh? Is that a new kink? A new money-making scheme?”

“Will you lose your jobs in Burger King if we tell your bosses about it?” Sergio added.

A laugh rang out in the room. They all turned around to see Fernando emerging from the bath, towelling his hair. He walked up to Stevie and dropped his chin on his lover’s shoulder. “Stevie, you probably need to clear things up for them.”

Stevie grinned. Fernando looked like he was ready to play with the prey. Suddenly, Sergio and Gago weren’t so smug.

“We’re not _exactly_ selling sex tapes to make money. It’s just our job.”

“Meaning…?”

“We’re actors for Blacklisted.”

“You mean…”

“Not Burger King?”

“God, no.”

Sergio was clutching his forehead. “Wait. You get paid to make porn?”

“Is that a real job?” Gago echoed.

Fernando shrugged. “We have to show up in the office and everything.”

“Yeah, with a company ID and a contract and a payment slip and all. And if you’re late or absent too many times, they punish you. They get creative with the punishments,” Stevie wiggled his eyebrows.

“Sometimes it gets to be one big, merry orgy.”

“When the boss gets mad, he likes a blowjob. He gets mad a lot.”

“He even has a leather casting couch, just like in the movies.”

“Alright, alright!” Gago waved his hands in the air, “Shut it, this is bullcrap and you know it.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen either of you in any other Blacklisted video,” Sergio chided.

“Well, are you a Blacklisted member?”

“No.”

Stevie patted Sergio’s shoulder. “Then you just have to buy in if you want to find out.”

*

“Were we mean?” Fernando looked up at Stevie, his big doe eyes framed by his dark lashes.

Stevie grinned, remembering the stunned expression on Sergio and Gago’s faces when it finally sank in that Stevie and Fernando were living the lives they could only dream about. When Gago wasn’t looking, Sergio even meekly asked Stevie if he thought Blacklisted would ever hire him. And while Xabi was always looking for bottoms, Stevie didn’t think he would recommend the Sevillan any time soon.

“It was a long time coming. We were probably even nice, given our history with Sergio and Gago.”

Stevie stretched out on Fernando’s bed, and the Spaniard’s long arms and legs wrapped around his body. “I missed waking up to you this morning,” he said.

“I slept over the entire week already,” Fernando snorted dismissively, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away.

“Well, why stay over for just a week when you can be there all the time?”

The question slipped out before Stevie even noticed. He clapped his hand over his mouth. He had meant to pop the question more romantically.

“I mean, I’ve just been thinking about it. I enjoy when you’re there, and I think you do too. Why do you have to go back here and suffer in Sergio and Gago’s presence?” Stevie stumbled. “There’s enough room at my place. You won’t ever have to worry about your roommate using up all the hot water. I’ll even make you hot chocolate if my nephews and nieces don’t finish it all.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m cramping your style in your bachelor pad.” Fernando tried to make light of the situation, but Stevie had learned to read him by now.

“Does it still count as a bachelor pad if I’m already taken?”

A grin threatened to split Fernando’s face, and Stevie had to grin back too.

“If you’re asking me to move in with you…” Fernando walked his fingers down Stevie’s arm.

“I am asking you to move in with me.”

“Then yes.”

Stevie grabbed Fernando’s hand and pounced on him, attacking him with soft, fluttering kisses on his neck. Fernando shrieked, trying to get away from the ticklish sensation, but Stevie – with years of experience as a top, of course – easily neutralised him. 

“Stevie, stop!” Fernando shouted in between peals of laughter.

“No, you’re mine now!” Stevie taunted back, grabbing Fernando’s sides to tickle him further.

When the tickling war died out – Fernando pointed out that Stevie was growing old, Stevie defended that Fernando was getting too wild and he nearly got kneed in the groin – they fell back on the pillows again.

“I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time,” Stevie said, letting out a long exhale. His chest hurt from the lack of air.

Fernando smiled. This was them: always side by side in a bed, trying to catch their breath, although it was for an entirely different reason now. “Me too.”

*

It was like a trail of bread crumbs destined to lead him to a house made out of candy. Because it was Mikel, though, only a trail of discarded clothing could actually tempt him to follow.

Suede boots and printed socks discarded by the foyer, a sports coat that just missed the coat rack, a tie on the bannister, followed by a crumpled dress shirt by the top step of the staircase. Someone must be having a good night.

It wasn’t a long hallway to Xabi’s room, but someone must have zigzagged a path to it, because the belt was on the far right of the corridor, the slacks were thrown to the left.

The door was ajar. Mikel could see movement inside the room. He held his breath and tiptoed forward, trying to see through the gap between the door and the doorframe. 

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, and Mikel almost fell back, off-balanced, in surprise.

It was Arteta.

“Mikel,” the visitor smiled, his eyes gleaming and devilish. His jeans were still unbuttoned, and he snaked into his sweater slowly, giving Mikel all the time to watch.

Mikel frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here, getting fucked by my brother.”

Miki laughed. Just what he wanted to hear. He was so, so disappointed that the first time Xabi was taking him home for sex, Mikel had been out. He had planned to be as loud and as wild as possible. He probably wore Xabi out, the number of times he demanded to ride him that night.

But now, the target was here, and the bait was set. Of course Mikel was gonna be curious the moment he saw the trail of clothes. He was so easy.

“I’m sorry,” Miki took a step closer to the older Alonso, so close he knew he could smell the scent of spit and sex on him. “Does it bother you?” 

“No,” Mikel said gruffly.

“Of course it doesn’t,” Miki nodded. He batted his eyelashes, “You never did call me back.”

Mikel was at a loss for words. He didn’t really have any defence, especially since Miki caught him with a barefaced lie.

Miki bent down – he made sure to display his ass – and picked up his belt. Mikel’s eyes followed his hands to his crotch as he worked the belt through the loops of his jeans and finally closed the fly.

“Anyway,” Miki said brightly, snapping Mikel out of his daze. “I’ll see you around!”

He blew the other boy a kiss and then strode out of the house.

Mikel watched him – but instead of feeling jealous or intrigued, he just felt amused.

He stepped into the room, thrown into disarray, clearly intended by the masterful Arteta. If Miki thought Mikel was this easy, Miki was even easier to figure out.

Xabi was laid naked and boneless, his head by the foot of the bed, his feet propped up on the headboard.

“Your boyfriend is a little minx, isn’t he?”

Xabi’s eyes were still half-closed, his mouth parted and breaths ragged, but he clearly heard the conversation between his brother and his lover. He mustered up a smile, “He has his issues.”

Mikel shook his head, pacing the room back and forth. He straightened up the lamp, picked up the pillows, and closed the door.

“He must think he’s pretty clever, playing with you then me then you.”

Xabi was wide awake now. There was something in the way the older boy was moving and speaking. He was like a cat preparing to spring into action. “Well, you did screw him over.”

“Oh, I don’t care about him.”

Then, Mikel was undressing. Xabi’s heart began to pound loudly in his chest, and he struggled to prop himself up on his elbows. “What are you doing?”

Mikel stood in his boxers, and the sight made Xabi’s arousal stir. It had been a long, long time since they last did this.

“You’re already all set up for me,” Mikel said, gesturing at Xabi’s open legs. He climbed into the space before Xabi could close it. Underneath him, he could see Xabi’s chest rising and falling, his breathing getting shallower and shallower. He experimentally ran his finger down the underside of Xabi’s cock, and Xabi winced.

“I’m so tired.”

“Fucking someone and getting fucked are two completely different things,” Mikel pointed out. He leaned in to kiss his brother. “Don’t worry – I can do all the work.”

Xabi was losing himself into the kiss. He could barely keep his eyes open, and his body arched up to meet Mikel’s, his fingers clinging desperately onto his shoulders. Mikel chuckled deeply – it was just like Xabi to hesitate on the outside but beg on the inside.

“We can always do this another time,” Mikel teased, pretending to get up.

Xabi wrapped his legs around Mikel’s waist and brought him down, their cocks pushing against each other. Their groans were eerily similar as they began to grind. “Don’t you dare walk away now.”

Mikel grinned triumphantly as he eased off his boxers and got into position. “See, we can let Miki think he’s won. But everyone knows you can’t pull a fast one on the Alonso brothers.”


End file.
